Redemption
by aRiddikulusRavenclaw
Summary: Mid DH. Draco Malfoy has hidden his feelings for so long. But when SHE is brought to Malfoy Manor, everything changes. Will Draco turn blood traitor to save the one person he truly cares about? *Revision 2.0 complete! I hope ya'll like this ending better than the last, even though it's super short.*
1. Blood Traitor

A/N: One giant disclaimer at the beginning, folks! I don't own Harry Potter or any of his lovely friends/enemies. And if they were real, I'd totally go all stalker-chic on Draco's beautiful behind. Sorry, that got a bit awkward just then. 0.o

In about half of these chapters, there is some VERY recognizable dialogue and (and a nearly identical scene in chapter 12) from the books; it's not mine, either. There _are_ a handful of spells that I concocted on my own using Latin, Greek, and/or Spanish. Those ought to be fairly obvious, too, because if you search Google for them, they don't show up. Along with the recognizable scenes/conversations/etc., there are a couple of things I borrowed from the movies because they didn't exist in the book (once again, see chapter 12). Also, I mention flowers in chapters 14 and 16; they are real, and their healing properties in this story are the same in real life. Last thing you should note: Most of the time I write from Draco's POV. Chapters 9, 10, 13, 15, and 18 have different POVs for reasons you will understand when you read them.

To each and every one of you that has favorited, followed, and/or commented, THANK YOU! I originally started writing this just for myself, to see where it would take me. Your love and appreciation (and criticism) motivated me to finish, especially during March when my grandma died. Without you guys, I probably would have stopped writing this fic way back then.

All my love,

RR

P.S. JKR is God.

* * *

Chapter One: Blood Traitor

* * *

"What is this?"

Draco listened to his mother speaking harshly with someone at the front door. He hoped to Salazar that she didn't let them in—whenever snatchers showed up at Malfoy Manor, the Dark Lord soon followed. Draco hated him.

"We're here to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

Draco shuddered. That voice belonged to Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf that the Dark Lord sometimes employed.

"Who are you?" Narcissa replied.

"You know me! Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter!"

Draco stiffened. Of all the bloody fugitives, of course Greyback would have to be the one to find Potter. Damn. He hoped his mother wouldn't let them in.

"I know 'es swollen, ma'am, but it's 'im! If you look a bit closer, you'll see 'is scar. And this 'ere, see the girl? The Mudblood who's been traveling around with 'im, ma'am. There's no doubt it's 'im, and we've got 'is wand as well! 'Ere, ma'am— "

Draco's heart stopped. Surely Granger wasn't stupid enough to have actually been traveling with Potter. If he'd believed in a god, he would have been praying right now that Granger wasn't outside his house. As it was, he could only hold his breath and wait, wishing his mother would deny them entry.

"Bring them in."

Draco slumped his shoulders when he heard his mother's reply.

"Follow me," Narcissa said, coming closer to the drawing room. "My son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter, he will know."

"What is this?" Lucius Malfoy asked.

Draco glanced at his father.

"They say they've got Potter," Narcissa replied. "Draco, come here."

Draco reluctantly stood up and approached his mother, who had been followed into the room by a group of filthy snatchers and five people—well, one was a goblin—that were tied up. As soon as he approached the group, he recognized Harry. He'd been hit with a Stinging Jinx, but it was definitely him. Which meant that the bushy-haired girl beside him…Shit.

"Well, boy?" Greyback snarled at him.

Draco didn't answer. He wouldn't give the werewolf the satisfaction of hearing the quiver of fear in his voice. If nothing else, at least his pride was still intact.

"Well, Draco?" Lucius pressed. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

He licked his lips and opened his mouth. "I can't—I can't be sure," he finally said. He wasn't sure what would happen, but if, by some miracle, Potter were released, maybe Granger would be let go, too.

"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!" Lucius was far too excited. It made Draco feel sick to his stomach. "Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven!"

Draco scowled at his father. "I said I can't be sure," he snarled.

Lucius approached Harry and squinted at him. "There's something there. It could be the scar, stretched tight…Draco, come here. Look properly! What do you think?"

Draco rolled his eyes and got up in Harry's face. He knew, without a doubt, that the person in front of him was, indeed, Harry Potter. "I don't know," he finally said. He turned and walked to the fireplace and stood next to his mother.

"We had better be certain, Lucius," she called out. "Completely sure that it is Potter before we summon the Dark Lord…They say this is his." She held a wand in her hands, examining it closely. "But this wand does not match the Dark Lord's description…if we are mistaken, if we call him here for nothing…remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov!" she cautioned.

"What about the Mudblood, then?" Draco's stomach clenched at Greyback's words. He could hardly stand to hear the derogatory term anymore.

"Wait," Narcissa said. "Yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter!"

Damn. He wanted to tell her to shut up.

"I saw her picture in the Prophet," she continued. "Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"

Draco gulped. "I…maybe…yeah."

"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" Lucius interjected. "It's them, Potter's friends—Draco, look at him. Isn't this Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name— "

Draco turned his back on his father. "Yeah, it could be."

Someone else entered the drawing room. The putrid stench of her perfume informed Draco that it was his deplorable Aunt Bellatrix.

"What's this? What's happened, Cissy?" Draco heard Bellatrix walk further into the room. "But surely this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?"

 _No_ , Draco wanted to scream, _it isn't her!_

"Yes, yes, it's Granger," Lucius said eagerly. "And beside her, we think, Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!"

"Potter?" Bellatrix screeched with glee. "Are you sure? Well then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!" Draco spun around in time to see her pull back her left sleeve and expose her Dark Mark. She reached toward it—

"I was about to call him!" Lucius said sullenly. Draco thought he sounded like a spoiled child. "I shall summon him, Bella. Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority— "

"Your authority!" Bellatrix sneered. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius!"

"In case you hadn't noticed, I've got a new wand. Besides, this is nothing to do with you, you did not capture the boy— "

"Begging your pardon, Mr. Malfoy," Greyback interrupted. "But it's us that caught Potter, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold."

Bellatrix laughed scornfully. "Take your bloody gold, scavenger— "

Draco frowned at the look on his aunt's face. She had stopped dead in the middle of her sentence, staring at something one of the snatchers held. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father roll up his left sleeve in preparation to summon the Dark Lord.

"STOP!" Bellatrix screamed. "Do not touch it! We shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"

Lucius froze with his finger hovering over his Mark.

"What is that?" Bellatrix demanded of the snatcher.

"Sword," he mumbled.

"Give it to me!"

"No— "

Bellatrix flicked her wand at the snatcher, and he fell to the floor, Stunned. She moved from one snatcher to the next, Stunning each of them before they even had the chance to pull their own wands. As much as he hated her, Draco couldn't help but be impressed at her skill.

Bellatrix slowly approached Greyback, the sword now clutched tightly in her fist. "Where the hell did you get this sword?" she whispered menacingly.

"How dare you," Greyback sneered.

"Where did you find this sword?" Bellatrix demanded. "Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts! How did you get it?"

"It was in their tent!" Greyback yelled.

Bellatrix moved away from the werewolf. He scowled at her angrily.

"Draco, move this scum outside. If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."

Draco frowned at his aunt. He hated when she ordered him around.

"Don't you dare speak to Draco like— " Narcissa snarled.

Bellatrix interrupted her. "Be quiet! This situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem!"

Draco rolled his eyes again. She was always so overdramatic. He had no idea how the Dark Lord put up with her.

"If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed," Bellatrix muttered. "The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of Potter himself…But if he finds out…I must…I must know…" She turned to face Narcissa. "The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do!"

"This is my house, Bella," Narcissa snapped. "You don't give orders in my— "

"Do it!" Bellatrix screeched. "You have no idea of the danger we're in!"

Narcissa scowled, but turned to Greyback. "Take the prisoners down to the cellar."

"Wait!" Bellatrix shouted. "All except…except for the Mudblood."

Draco's heart constricted.

"No!" Ron shouted. "You can have me, keep me!"

Bellatrix hit him, hard. "If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next," she snarled. "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book."

Draco watched warily as Bellatrix took a short silver knife from the pocket of her robes and cut Hermione loose from the others.

"Reckon she'll let me have a bit of the girl when she's finished with her?" Draco could hear Greyback saying as he shoved the other prisoners toward the cellar stairs. "I'd say I'll get a bite or two…"

Draco shuddered. Not if he had anything to say about it.

"Draco, take these sacks of dung to the courtyard!" Bellatrix shouted at him.

He reluctantly pulled his wand from the back pocket of his jeans. He made eye contact with Hermione. Fear was written in every line of her body. Draco mouthed "I'm sorry," as he waved his wand toward the Stunned snatchers. Their bodies levitated into the air, and he directed them out of the drawing room. He hurried as fast as he could to deposit the men in the courtyard, but he wasn't fast enough. When he stepped back into the kitchen, he could hear her screams echoing throughout the house. From in the basement, he could hear Ron bellowing her name. The weasel must really love her.

It took everything Draco had not to run back to the drawing room. He shoved down his feelings, placed his usual smirk back on his face, and swaggered his way through the house. But when he reentered the drawing room, he stopped cold. Hermione was lying on the floor near the sofa, and Bellatrix was straddling her.

"How did you get into my vault?" Bellatrix yelled, her face close to Hermione's.

"I swear—I swear we didn't," Hermione choked out. "We found it!"

"Liar!" Bellatrix pulled out her shiny knife again and lightly traced Hermione's lips with its tip. "Tell me who helped you!"

Hermione let out a sob. "Nobody! We found it in the woods!"

Draco found that he believed her. The tears streaming down her cheeks were no act.

Bellatrix yanked on Hermione's left arm and pinned it down with her knees. "Filthy Mudblood," she snarled. "The lot of you ought to be branded." She lowered her knife to the soft flesh beneath Hermione's elbow and began carving into it.

Draco flinched at Hermione's gurgling screams. He tried not to care, he really did. But the longer Bellatrix hovered over her, the more Draco wanted to rip her blasted head from her body. Hermione's scream cut off with a low moan. Draco looked over at her again, and found that she had fallen unconscious. A part of him was grateful. Maybe Bellatrix would leave her alone now.

Bellatrix stood up and wiped her knife off on her robes. "She didn't last too long, did she?" she chuckled darkly. "Too bad it won't last." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Hermione's chest. " _Rennervate_."

Hermione bolted into an upright position, panting. She curled her left arm to her torso protectively, flinching at the pain. She looked up at Bellatrix with wary eyes. Draco watched her silently, wishing that he could intervene. Bellatrix lifted her wand again.

" _Crucio!_ " Bellatrix roared.

Hermione's back arched, and her scream pierced all the way to the wispy remains of Draco's soul. He watched as her body fell back to the floor and twitched with the strength of Bellatrix's curse. If Bellatrix didn't release the spell soon, Hermione could suffer permanent damage. At the very second that Draco decided he was going to do something, Bellatrix lowered her wand to her side.

Draco's heart was pounding; the roaring in his ears blocked out all other sound. His sight was pulsing with red. He balled his hands into fists, warring between his pride and his feelings for her. But his parents were still in the room. How could he get Hermione out of here without them knowing?

"I'm going to ask you one more time," Bellatrix said dangerously. "How did you break into my Gringotts vault?"

Hermione gulped down air. "I'm not lying," she said desperately. "I swear, we found it in the woods."

Bellatrix glowered down at her. "I warned you," she growled. " _Crucio!_ "

Hermione screamed louder this time. Spasms rocked through her body, making it look as though she was having a seizure. Bellatrix kept the spell coursing through Hermione's body until her muscles gave out from exhaustion. Still she screamed in pain, the spell's fire taking its course. A wicked grin split Bellatrix's face.

Draco was shaking, whether with fury or fear he wasn't sure. Something salty slid down his cheek, and he realized that his eyes had become glazed with tears. He blinked furiously, trying to clear his vision. He focused back on Hermione in time to see Bellatrix release the curse. But instead of backing away, she aimed her wand at Hermione's head. Draco watched, as if in slow motion, her mouth open and begin to form the words of the Killing Curse.

Something in him snapped. "No!" he roared, racing across the room and tackling his aunt.

Bellatrix's wand went flying across the room. She shoved Draco aside, screaming, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Draco reeled back and punched Bellatrix as hard as he could. Then he pulled back his wand and, with every ounce of magical energy he held, shouted, " _Stupefy!_ " Bellatrix and his parents all slumped to the floor, unconscious. Triumphant, Draco moved to Hermione's side. She was motionless, her head sagging to the side, but her eyes were open. He gently brushed the back of his hand across her cheek, and her eyes focused on him. Glancing around the room, Draco looked at his parents one last time. Instead of feeling loss, like he thought he would, he only felt disgust for what they had become. He refused to turn out like them. Carefully, he lifted Hermione into his arms, then he Disapparated from the mansion.

Within seconds, they arrived just outside of Surrey. Draco wasn't sure exactly where the house was. He looked around for a moment, finally spotting a small wooded area next to a creek. He hurried over and set Hermione underneath a tree.

"Please, wait here. I'm going back for your friends," he pled.

Hermione nodded, still too weak to speak.

Draco flashed back to the Manor. Everyone in the drawing room was still unconscious. He carefully walked through the halls, peering around each corner to make sure nobody was coming. It didn't take him long to reach the stairs to the cellar. He snuck a look to the door at the bottom of the stairs. Ugly old Wormtail was standing outside the door, wringing his hands. Greyback was with him. Draco stuck his wand around the corner and Stunned them. Wormtail dropped to the side, on top of Greyback, and Draco rushed down the stairs. He threw open the door.

"Come on," he yelled. "Potter, Weasley, let's go!"

Harry looked at him, perplexed. "Malfoy, what the hell?"

"Everyone upstairs is Stunned, but we've got to hurry. The spell won't last forever."

"Well, what about them?" Harry gestured towards three other people and a goblin in the cellar.

Draco examined them. He recognized some of them. The first was Mr. Ollivander, the wandmaker. One was another Gryffindor bloke—Dean, he thought his name was. The other was that crazy girl whose father owned the Quibbler. Luna. He didn't really care much about the goblin.

"Come on, then," Draco grumbled.

He waved them through the door and up the stairs. When they reached the main hall, Harry bolted for the drawing room again. Draco took off after him.

"Hey, Potter, where are you going?"

"I need that sword!" he shouted over his shoulder.

"Aw hell," Draco muttered.

He followed Harry to the door of the drawing room, Ron hot on his heels. Harry dashed over to where Bellatrix still lay and grabbed the sword from the floor. Then he hurried back to where Draco stood.

"Where's Hermione?" he demanded.

"What did you do to her?" Ron shouted.

"Shh!" Draco warned. "I already got her out of here. Come on, she's waiting."

Ron grabbed Draco's shoulder roughly and shoved him against the door frame. "What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?"

"I'm helping you, moron!" he snapped.

"But what do you get out of it? Why the hell would you want to help us? You're a damn Death Eater!"

"We can discuss this later," Draco snarled. "Right now, we need to leave."

Ron scowled at him, but nodded his head sharply.

Draco led them back into the hall to where the others were waiting. "As much as this disgusts me, we have to hold hands," he grumbled.

"Eugh," Ron huffed. "I am not holding your hand."

"Just hold somebody's hand, Weasel."

Luna came up next to Draco. "Thank you for rescuing us, Draco." Then she slipped her hand into his and grabbed Ron's with the other. "Come on, boys."

Draco was slightly surprised at her immediate acceptance of him, but rather than question it, he made sure everyone was connected and Disapparated from Malfoy Manor for the last time. They appeared right on the bank of the creek where Draco had brought Hermione.

As soon as he set eyes on her, Ron bolted to Hermione's side. "Oh my God," he spluttered. "Are you all right? Oh my God."

Hermione took Ron's hand in hers. "I'll be fine."

Ron squeezed her hand. As he did, he happened to glance down at her arm. A snarl twisted his features and he turned to Draco angrily. "Who the bloody hell did this?" he yelled, gesturing to the word 'Mudblood' carved into her arm.

Draco sighed. "Bellatrix."

Ron surged to his feet. "Since I can't kill her, I'll settle for your pasty face. C'mere Malfoy!"

"Hey!" Draco stumbled backward. "I just fucking rescued your sorry ass!"

"Ron!" Hermione shouted. "Stop!"

He whirled on her. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't curse him into oblivion!"

"He saved my life," Hermione said wonderingly. She looked at Draco. "Why did you save my life?"

Draco shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Damn. He hadn't thought she'd question his actions. "Er," he managed.

"Whatever the reason, thank you Malfoy," Harry interrupted, shooting Ron a warning glare. "I suppose we part ways here, then."

Draco panicked. "Wait. You can't ditch me."

Harry frowned. "What are you talking about? Why not?"

"Don't you understand?" Draco snarled. "I saved your bloody lives! I went against my family to do it! They'll kill me if they ever see me again!"

Luna tilted her head to look at him. "That's an awful lot to sacrifice," she said dreamily. "What made you do it?"

"Not now, Lovegood!" Draco snapped.

Luna shrugged and wandered down to the edge of the creek. Harry shared an uneasy look with Ron. Draco watched the lot of them, his heart racing, and having no idea what he'd do if they turned him away.

"Well, I suppose— " Harry started.

"No!" Ron shouted. "I will not spend any more time than necessary with that ass— "

"Ron!" Hermione hollered. "That's enough!"

He spun to face her. "Why the hell are you defending him?"

Hermione shakily pulled herself to her feet, leaning heavily against the tree for support. "He stopped Bellatrix from using the Killing Curse on me," she said strongly.

Draco heard Dean Thomas gasp loudly.

"But that doesn't mean he's on our side!" Ron argued.

"I'm on nobody's side!" Draco yelled.

"Still," Hermione said. "We can't just abandon him. We don't have to trust him, but if we leave him alone, he'll be killed. We owe him our lives. Come on."

Harry frowned. "Well, I suppose he could tag along for a little while."

Draco relaxed slightly. "Thanks for your generosity," he said sarcastically.

"Where will you go?" Dean asked Harry. "Where will I go? I can't go home, or my parents will be in danger."

"You could come with me," Luna said in an airy voice. "I'm going to go home, and I'm certain Father would let you stay with us."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. Actually, we might go somewhere else once we meet up with him, for safety reasons, you understand."

Dean nodded.

"Well, I suppose that settles the question of where you'll go. What about you, Mr. Ollivander?" Harry turned to the old man.

"Do you know of anywhere that's safe right now, young man?" he rasped.

Harry looked around him. "Hey, I know this place." He turned to Draco. "Did you mean to come here?"

Draco nodded. "I didn't know exactly where you lived with the Muggles before, but I knew it was somewhere in Surrey."

"We could go back to Privet Drive," Harry said. "That was actually quite brilliant, Malfoy."

"Because I'm normally such a numbskull," Draco sneered.

Harry ignored him.

"Well," Luna said breezily, "shall we go then, Dean?"

"Right," he answered. "Harry, Ron, Hermione, you sure you'll be all right?"

Ron clapped Dean on the shoulder. "Yeah. Just stay safe, mate."

Dean extended his hand to Luna. "Whenever you're ready."

Luna took his hand with a dreamy smile on her face. "See you later, Harry," she said.

"Bye, Luna."

"Great," Draco grouched. "Can we get a move-on now?"

"Just one second!" The goblin, who had remained silent throughout the entire journey thus far, spoke up.

Draco turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I want that sword back!" the goblin said in his squeaky little voice. "It's goblin made, and it rightfully belongs to us!"

"Griphook," Harry said. "Can we get back to my aunt and uncle's house first?"

It was hard to determine what kind of mood the goblin was in because of his wrinkled face. "Fine," he said. "Just hurry."

Draco was surprised when Hermione extended a hand towards him. "Well, come on then. Let's get to Harry's house," she said softly.

Ron glared at Draco before he marched to Hermione's side. "Let's get this over with," he said, snatching the hand she had intended for Draco.

Harry moved to Ron's other side, followed by Mr. Ollivander and Griphook. They joined hands.

"Come on, Malfoy," Hermione said, extending her right hand.

Draco hesitated. He slowly moved towards her, wary that they would figure out his secret if he accepted her hand too readily. "I'd rather hold the goblin's hand," he muttered under his breath, hoping both that they would and would not hear him.

But it appeared nobody did, so, scowling, he took Hermione's hand. Harry Disapparated, bringing the group with him. They landed outside of a tidy house, surrounded by other identical houses. The number four was plastered on the front door. Draco eyed the house with scorn, but, knowing he had nowhere else to go, didn't say anything.

Realizing he still held Hermione's hand, Draco flung it from him. "So," he said, trying to exude his usual swagger. "Are we going in or not?"

Harry swung the door open. The house was completely barren of furniture, and there was a thick layer of dust on every surface. It was obvious that nobody had lived here for months. Draco stomped inside, fighting the urge to insult the place into nothingness.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron said, helping her through the door. "Almost there."

"Malfoy, Griphook, Mr. Ollivander, there are rooms upstairs you can have." Harry waved them toward the stairs. "Ron, let's do what we can to patch Hermione up."

Draco wanted to protest—how could he let her out of his sight again?—but scowled and followed the others to the second floor. Griphook took the first room on the right. Draco continued down the hall and entered the third bedroom on the left, leaving Mr. Ollivander on his own. He closed the door and leaned against it, completely spent. He slid to the floor of the empty room and curled into a ball. The day's events coursed through his head, and he came to a devastating realization.

"I'm a blood traitor."


	2. Horcrux Hunting

Chapter 2: Horcrux Hunting

* * *

When Draco woke up the following morning, he was still curled up in front of the bedroom door. For a moment, he considered locking himself inside and never coming back out; what did he have to live for now? But an overwhelming curiosity about Hermione's well being forced him to his feet.

He brushed the wrinkles from his dark suit jacket and opened the door. The hallway was quiet. Draco made his way downstairs, careful to avoid making unnecessary noise. When he neared the parlor, he heard soft voices coming from the kitchen. He tiptoed down the hallway until he was near enough to make out what they were saying.

"…just trying to point out that if he gets ahold of that wand, we're all dead," Harry said.

"What wand?" Draco whispered to himself. "Who are they talking about?"

"Mr. Ollivander," Hermione said, "what can you tell us about the Elder Wand?"

"My dear, it is just a legend. A story in a book of fairy tales," Ollivander replied softly.

"But, say for a moment that it does exist," Ron said. "How would You-Know-Who get to it?"

"There are stories among wandmakers," Ollivander started, "about a very powerful wand that has left a bloody trail of destruction in its wake. Supposedly the only way for the wand to recognize a new master, its old one must first be defeated."

"Do the stories mention anyone in particular?" Harry asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes. There was a rumor many years ago—likely started by the man himself—that Gregorovitch, another wandmaker, was in possession of the wand and attempting to duplicate it." Ollivander sounded curious now. "Why do you care about a mythological wand?"

"I'm just trying to understand You-Know-Who a bit better," Harry said.

Draco could tell he was lying from behind the closed door, and he wondered what the Boy Wonder could possibly be up to.

"I see," Ollivander said.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Ollivander. You can go get some more rest now, if you'd like," Hermione said kindly. "We really do appreciate everything you told us."

"Any time, children."

Draco heard the scraping of a chair, and, before he had the chance to duck out of sight, Ollivander was in the hallway. They locked eyes. Draco held a finger to his lips, a pleading look on his face. Ollivander eyed him suspiciously but walked away without revealing his location. Draco breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"Do you think the wand really exists, Harry?" Ron asked.

"I do," he replied. "I know I'm supposed to fight it, but I had another vision of You-Know-Who searching for Gregorovitch a few days ago. He found him, and Gregorovitch admitted that he hadn't been in possession of the wand for some time. He said that Grindelwald had stolen it from him."

"Visions? He can see what the Dark Lord is doing?" Draco whispered again.

"Grindelwald?" Hermione said, surprised. "He was the wizard that Dumbledore famously defeated in a duel."

"Does that mean," Ron said slowly, "that Dumbledore has had the Elder Wand all this time?"

"I think so," Harry said.

"Dumbledore was buried with his wand," Hermione said quietly. "It's at Hogwarts."

"Well why aren't we going to get it?" Ron demanded.

"It's probably too late for that now. You-Know-Who found out this information a long time ago; he's probably already got it with him." Harry didn't sound discouraged, though. If anything, Draco thought, he sounded hopeful. "But I don't think the wand will work for him."

They just said that whoever possesses the wand is its master. Draco's heart stopped.

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

"Because You-Know-Who isn't the one that defeated Dumbledore."

Draco's eyes widened. "They don't mean...?"

"Hold on," Ron said. "Didn't you say that Malfoy disarmed Dumbledore that night on the Astronomy tower?"

"Exactly," Harry said.

"So the Elder Wand is loyal to Draco?" Hermione clarified.

"I believe so, yes."

Draco couldn't stand it anymore. He barged into the kitchen. "What the bloody hell do you mean the Elder Wand is loyal to me?" he demanded.

Harry shot out of his chair, where he was sitting at a table Draco was sure hadn't been there the night before. "Malfoy! How long have you been out there?"

Draco hesitated. "I was on my way down for some food, and I just barely heard you say that thing about the Elder Wand," he lied.

Harry seemed to relax. "It's just a theory."

Ron glared at Draco. "How dare you eavesdrop on us!"

"I wasn't eavesdropping," Draco denied, feeling a bit guilty. "I just barely got here!"

Harry studied Draco for a long, tense moment. "Malfoy, come and sit down. There is something we should probably discuss."

"Harry, don't tell him! We can't trust him!" Ron nearly shouted.

"Ron, calm down," Hermione said. "Harry's right. If Draco really is the master of the Elder Wand, we're going to need his help."

"Who says I want to help you?" Draco snarled.

Hermione looked at him with one eyebrow raised. "You might not say it out loud, Malfoy, but if you didn't want to help us, you would have let Bellatrix kill us yesterday."

Draco's shoulders slumped. He stalked over to the table and sat roughly in the only vacant seat—on Hermione's left. "So what?" he asked sullenly. "Just because I didn't let my psychotic aunt murder you doesn't mean I suddenly want to fight for the bloody Order." He scratched uncomfortably at the Dark Mark etched into his left arm.

A somber silence filled the room. Draco felt so confused. By now his family had probably awoken from being Stunned last night and had discovered his treachery. He would forever be a pariah in his own home. Surprisingly, he felt no real sense of loss. His opinions of the world had started changing right around the time that Granger had punched him in the face during third year. He fought a smile at the memory.

"Let's just pretend, for a moment, that I decide to help you. What would I have to do?" Draco asked.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, but Hermione had the courage to speak up. "Nothing at first, unless you wanted to. Your part would only come at the end of this, when Harry and You-Know-Who finally confront each other."

"What's the holdup?" he wondered.

"Horcruxes," Harry said quietly.

"What're Horcruxes?"

"You-Know-Who wanted to split his soul into seven equal parts," Harry explained. "He contained each part within an object of importance to him."

Draco's eyes widened. "The diary…"

Harry nodded. "The diary from second year, the one your father slipped into Ginny's cauldron that day at Flourish and Blotts."

Draco wanted to deny that his father had been the one to do it, but he knew that the diary had once been in a glass case in his home. He remembered the dark aura that permeated the room it was kept in. "Have you found any others?"

Ron scowled in Draco's direction. "Why should we tell you?" he mumbled angrily.

"Because maybe I know where some others are!" Draco yelled. "Don't forget that my blasted father is in the Dark Lord's inner circle!"

"How could we forget?" Ron snarled. "You followed him around like a lost puppy for years!"

Draco jumped to his feet, pulling his wand out as he did. He pointed it at Ron. "So help me, Weasley— "

"That's enough, you two!" Hermione shouted. "Sit down, Draco!"

Draco frowned at her, but did as she asked.

"To answer your question, Malfoy, yes. We have found others. And we've figured out what some other ones might be." Harry folded his hands atop the table calmly.

Draco did not understand how Harry could be so blasé about the subject. "Can I ask what they are?"

Harry nodded. "The diary, of course, you know about. Dumbledore found an old ring that once belonged to You-Know-Who's grandfather and he destroyed the Horcrux inside. The night that Dumbledore died, he and I had been out searching for another Horcrux. It was a locket that used to belong to Salazar Slytherin."

"And the locket has been destroyed?" Draco clarified.

"It took some time, but yes, it's been destroyed."

"Why did it take time? Didn't you find it with Dumbledore?" Draco couldn't help the curiosity that was building inside.

A dark expression crossed Harry's face. "The short version of the story is that Regulus Black beat us to it. The locket we found that night was a fake. Regulus had brought it back to his house and ordered his house-elf to destroy it, but the elf couldn't do it. One day, bloody Mundungus Fletcher broke into the house and stole the locket, and it wound up with Dolores Umbridge."

Malfoy's eyebrows rose. "She works at the Ministry. How did you get it back?"

"Polyjuice Potion," Harry said, a slight smile on his face. "That was quite an adventure."

"We really did find Gryffindor's sword in the woods," Hermione pitched in. "And because it was imbued with basilisk venom, it has the power to destroy Horcruxes. Ron," she glanced over at him, a sweet smile on her face, "was the one that officially destroyed the locket."

As much as he loathed to admit it, Draco was impressed at the lot of them. Even he wasn't brave enough to do some of the things these three had done. "You mentioned that you thought you knew what the other Horcruxes were?" he asked.

"Yes." Harry absently rubbed the scar on his forehead. "Helga Hufflepuff had a cup that she was rather fond of. It went missing about fifty years ago—right around the time that You-Know-Who attended Hogwarts. It makes sense that he would use it. He seems to have some strange attachment to the founders of the school."

"Except Gryffindor," Draco muttered.

"Actually, you're right," Hermione said. "The only famous artifact of Gryffindor's is the sword, and we know it's not a Horcrux. But we do think he has something of Rowena Ravenclaw's."

"So that's five," Draco said. "What about the other two?"

"One of them is his pet snake, Nagini. It has to be," Harry said tiredly. "I have no idea how we'll get rid of her."

"That's still only six."

"Thank you for stating the obvious, you git," Ron snapped.

"Weasel— "

"Come on you two, get a grip," Harry barked.

Draco glowered at the table.

"As far as we know," Hermione said quietly, "You-Know-Who wasn't able to complete his seventh Horcrux before he tried to kill Harry sixteen years ago."

Harry looked down at his hands and refused to meet anyone's gaze. In that moment, Draco knew he was hiding something, for the boy had never really been great at keeping secrets. Instead of examining the revelation further, Draco decided to pitch in.

"I know where the cup is," he said quietly.

"What?" Ron yelped.

"I said I know where the cup is."

"I heard you, I just didn't believe you!"

"Where is it Draco?" Hermione asked, intervening.

"It's in Bellatrix's vault in Gringotts." Draco glared fiercely at Hermione.

"That makes sense," she whispered. "She was so angry when she thought we'd somehow broken into her vault to get the sword."

"Do you know where the other Horcruxes might be?" Harry asked eagerly.

Draco shook his head. "I have no idea where the Ravenclaw thing is, but Nagini never leaves the Dark Lord's side. He's had her in this impenetrable magic bubble for the last year." He couldn't believe how ridiculous it sounded.

"At any rate, you've still helped us," Harry said. "So thank you."

"Why are you being so nice to me, Potter?" Draco demanded. "I don't like it."

"Maybe it's because there's just not enough time to be petty about childhood arguments," Harry reasoned. "I don't have the energy to hate you anymore."

Draco was taken aback. "I—oh," he mumbled.

"I also wanted to apologize, Malfoy," Harry continued. "For what happened last year. When I hit you with that curse in the bathroom, I didn't know what it would do."

Draco was pretty sure he couldn't take any more surprises. For the rest of his life. "Well, I—thank you," he stuttered.

"Now that we've buried that hatchet," Harry said. "We need to come up with a plan to get the cup out of Bellatrix's vault."

"Do I have to stick around for this part of the conversation?" Draco asked. "Or can I go rummage up some food?"

"You can leave if you want to," Hermione said. "Thank you again for your help."

Draco nodded at her once then stood up and went out the back door into the overgrown garden. He didn't like what their kindness did to his insides. It was too unreal. He was glad, just a little bit, that Weasley still hated him. That, at least, felt normal. He craved normal. Draco sat on a bench that was nearly obscured by the bushes that had grown out of control.

It made him so angry sometimes, the way everything had turned out. He had been fine living in his prejudiced world until the bloody Dark Lord had to return. God, what he wouldn't give to return to the end of third year. To, even for a moment, tell Granger how brilliant he thought she was. He never would have dared to tell anyone what had changed in him that night, after she punched him.

After all the curses and mockery he'd thrown her way, Granger had never broken. And when he egged her on the night Buckbeak was supposed to be executed, she didn't run away crying as he'd expected her to. For a moment, the smallest moment, as she approached him, he thought how beautiful she looked in the light of the setting sun. And then she hit him in the face.

That night, safely locked in his bedroom, Draco let himself consider what had happened. It didn't take long for him to realize that he wasn't disgusted at her touch. He wondered when that had happened. It still wasn't enough to completely erase his upbringing, though. He buried his confused feelings and continued tormenting Granger and her friends as usual. He found it was great fun to tell lies about them to that reporter, Rita Skeeter, in fourth year.

Draco shook his head to clear his thoughts. He couldn't let them affect him so much. He was still Draco Malfoy, after all. He still had his pride, and he wouldn't let them take that away, too. He may have turned his back on his parents, on his entire life, but that didn't mean he had to suddenly be friends with them. In fact, he would much rather not be friends with Potter and Weasley. He was still far too confused about his feelings for Granger to sort out what he wanted in that department. It was all too hard.

Draco closed his eyes and let the warmth of the springtime sun wash across his skin. The outside world was quiet, and he found it strangely peaceful here, in the middle of a city of Muggles. It wasn't long before the sunshine and cool breeze coaxed Draco into a dreamless sleep—the first one he'd had in years.

Some time later, he wasn't sure how long, Draco sat up on the bench, staring around in confusion. For the briefest moment he wondered where he was, until last night's events returned. He stumbled to his feet and went back into the house. Potter, Weasley, and Granger still sat at the kitchen table, conversing in low voices.

"How's it going, losers?" Draco asked rather rudely.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Back to the bad attitude, are you, Malfoy?"

"Bugger off," he responded.

"We were just finishing up our plans to get the cup out of Gringotts," Harry said, pretending he hadn't heard their exchange.

"How, exactly, do you think you're going to manage that?" Draco asked derisively.

"One of Bellatrix's hairs got lodged in my jumper yesterday," Hermione explained. "And I've still got some Polyjuice Potion left. Nobody will be the wiser."

Draco scoffed. "Newsflash, Granger. Gringotts has increased security. You'll need her wand to even get past the goblins."

Hermione's confident demeanor faltered. "Harry, we didn't think of that!"

Draco smiled coldly. "Then it's a damn good thing I took everyone's wands back at the Manor, isn't it?"

"You have her wand?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Hers, both of my parents', and all of the snatchers'." Draco was feeling quite proud of himself for having thought to bring them. "Oh, and I also brought back your wand, Granger."

Her eyebrows rose. "I don't know what to say."

"You could try 'thank you,'" Draco suggested smugly.

"I guess we will continue as planned," Harry said. "Griphook will help us get into the vault in exchange for the sword, we'll get the cup, and be out of there before anyone suspects a thing."

"When, exactly, were you planning on doing this?" Draco asked.

"Well, we thought we'd leave tomorrow— " Harry started.

"Are you a bloody idiot?" Draco demanded. "Granger was just tortured. She's not fit to go anywhere, let alone impersonate the craziest witch in Britain!"

Too late he realized how his outburst would appear. Ron stared at him openmouthed, while Harry had cocked an eyebrow in amusement. Hermione just looked at him with wide eyes. He couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"What would you suggest we do?" Harry asked.

"Well, I— " he faltered. "At least take some time to recuperate before you run headfirst back into danger."

"Maybe he's right, Harry," Hermione said softly.

"All right," he acquiesced. "We'll stay here for another few days. When you're feeling better, we'll go after the cup."

"Good." Draco stormed upstairs before the others could reply.

Once he was back in the empty bedroom, he couldn't sit still. He paced from the door to the window and back again, over and over. He had to stop her. She was going to get herself killed. The idea of her lying cold and dead hundreds of miles below Gringotts made him want to throw up. But he didn't know what he could possibly say that would change her mind. She'd always been tenacious and determined. It used to piss him off, but now it scared him. He'd risked everything to save her life, and now she was just going to throw it away with both hands.

Every time Draco reached the window, he decided that he would go with them, if only to keep her safe. But every time he reached the door, he convinced himself that he didn't care whether she lived or died. Of course, he was lying to himself, but he wasn't sure which decision was the lie just yet. How do you change everything you've ever thought to be true in one night? Draco ran his hands through his hair. The whole situation was maddening. Suddenly too hot, he tore off his suit jacket and threw it to the floor. He still felt like he was suffocating, though. He unbuttoned the collar of his shirt and threw open the window. The cool breeze wafted across his face, calming his nerves the slightest bit, but he was still full of anxiety.

A soft knock at the door roused Draco from his reverie. He stomped back over to the door and yanked it open. _She_ was standing in the hall, looking the slightest bit nervous.

"Can I come in?"

Draco grunted and stepped back, allowing her access. He closed the door once she had crossed the threshold. He didn't want to be the first to break the tense silence. He couldn't. So he stared at her, waiting for something to happen. Hermione walked over to the window and leaned against the sill, letting the breeze brush her hair back from her face. Draco thought, in that moment, that she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Then he mentally berated himself. He couldn't afford to think like that.

"It's so nice here," Hermione said softly. She turned around to look at Draco. "Don't you think?"

He shrugged noncommittally. "Whatever."

Hermione tilted her head to the side, examining him shrewdly. "What is going on inside your head, Draco?"

Draco clenched his fists. He hated when she called him by his first name. It sounded too sweet, too perfect, too good for him. He shook his head, indicating that he didn't want to talk about it.

"Why won't you tell me?" Hermione shifted on her feet uncomfortably and winced when something caused her pain.

Concern raced through Draco's bloodstream. "Are you all right?" he asked before he could think about it. "Here, sit down." He approached her and extended a hand, helping her to sit on the floor.

"There you go, doing that again," she murmured.

"Doing what again?" he demanded, standing in front of Hermione and staring down at her.

"Acting like you have actual emotions." She stared back at him, completely serious.

"Hey, I'm not— " Draco cut himself off. He had been so close to admitting to her…something he hadn't yet admitted to himself.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "You're not…what, exactly? Are you really here to help us, or are you pretending?"

Draco was suddenly exhausted. He walked to the corner and slumped to the floor a mere two feet away from Hermione. He put his head in his hands. "Why did you let me stay if you thought I was pretending? Why bother letting me live, even?"

"I didn't," she whispered.

Draco looked up at her. "What?"

"I didn't—I don't—think you're pretending," she said a little more clearly.

Draco scrutinized her. "Why? You have every reason to hate me, so why would you put your faith in me?" He looked down at his hands resting on his knees. "I'm a monster," he whispered.

Another tense silence permeated the room. Draco wouldn't—couldn't—look at Hermione. Every time he looked into her amber eyes, his resolve melted just a little bit more. He didn't know why he even bothered. It was obvious that she was in love with the Weasel. What was the point?

"I remember what happened, you know," Hermione finally said. "You…you were so gentle." She sounded confused. "Why? Why did you save me?"

"I don't know," he mumbled.

Hermione's expression sharpened. "You're lying; I can see it on your face. You do know why. Please tell me."

Draco looked up at her helplessly. "I—because, I…" He trailed off, unable to voice it.

"Why, Draco?" she implored.

Draco really considered telling her in that moment. But he was afraid. He arranged his expression into its usual scowl and glared at her. "It doesn't matter!" he exclaimed. "I just did, okay? It happened, it's over. Why do you even care?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Hermione shouted. "I'm trying here, and you're just being a prick!"

"Well, maybe I don't want you to try! Did it ever cross your mind that I don't want your sympathy or concern?"

"Why not?" she challenged. "Is it because I'm a Mudblood?" She lifted her arm and flashed the ugly wound at him.

Draco flinched as though she had slapped him. "Don't judge me! You have no right. You know nothing about my life— "

"Then tell me!" she interrupted. "Why are you so afraid to have a friend?"

"I don't need friends!" he roared. "Just leave me alone!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "You're wrong, you know," she said a bit softer.

"Oh yeah? What am I wrong about this time?" he snarled.

"You do need friends."

"I don't need anyone," Draco enunciated slowly. "Now get out."

Hermione struggled to her feet. She walked unsteadily to the door before turning back to face him. "If you don't need us," she whispered, "then what are you still doing here?" With that, she left the room, slamming the door hard behind her.

Draco wanted to break something. But there was nothing in here to break except for himself. He wondered exactly how long it would take for him to fall apart, and who would be there to pick up the pieces when he did.


	3. A Goblin, a Wand, and a Dragon

Chapter Three: A Goblin, a Wand, and a Dragon

* * *

Draco spent the next several days holed up in the empty bedroom, only venturing out at night—when he was sure that everyone else was asleep—so that he could find food. With everything that was going on, he just didn't know how to be around Granger and her friends. He wasn't quite sure who he was anymore. Exactly one week after they had arrived, Draco awoke to a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" he grumbled sleepily.

"It's Hermione."

"What do you want, Granger?"

"We need to talk." Without permission, she opened the door.

Draco sat up in a flash, acutely aware that he was nude. He stared at Hermione, wide-eyed. Her eyes roved across his exposed form for a moment before a blush stained her cheeks and she hastily turned away.

"Sorry," she murmured.

Draco rapidly pulled his shirt on and buttoned it up. "Why are you here?"

"Harry, Ron, and I are leaving today."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "For Gringotts?" he asked, sliding his pants back on.

Hermione peeked over her shoulder and, upon seeing that he was fully dressed again, faced him. She nodded in answer to his question.

"What about the goblin and the old man?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco's disrespect. "Griphook is going to help us get inside the bank, and Mr. Ollivander has arranged another place to stay."

"So you're just going to leave me here, in this Muggle house?" Draco demanded.

"No," Hermione snapped. "Actually, we thought it would be best if you came along."

"Right," Draco scoffed. "Exactly how is my new status as a blood traitor going to get you into the bank?"

Hermione sighed. "Draco, you know better than any of us how the other Death Eaters behave. If you use Polyjuice Potion to transform into one of them, you can make my entering the bank more convincing."

Draco chewed on this for a moment. "Why should I help you?"

"Honestly, you have no reason to. I was just hoping that you would want to."

"What good does it do any of us to have me, a person the lot of you despise, tag along on your Horcrux hunt? Everyone on the Dark Lord's side will know by now what I've done. I can't exactly infiltrate their camp for you." Draco buried his face in his hands.

Hermione sat down on the floor near where Draco was. She reached out her hand tentatively, as if she were about to touch him, but changed her mind at the last second. She dropped her hand to her lap and stared at it uncomfortably. "I don't know," she finally whispered. "I don't know how or even if you can help us. But I don't want to just leave you, either. At least in a group, you'd have a better chance at staying alive."

"So, what?" Draco asked scathingly, looking up at her. "I'll be your pet Death Eater?"

"No!" Hermione said defensively. "You'll be our ally!"

"What if I don't want to be your ally?" Draco shouted. "I don't want to fight!"

Hermione was silent for a long time. She watched him carefully. Draco wondered what she was thinking about. He heaved a sigh.

"I'm so tired of all the fighting," he whispered. "I don't want to have to choose a side. I don't want to be— " he forced himself to stop before he sounded weak.

"Draco," Hermione said softly. "You may like to pretend that you have no feelings, but since you rescued us at the Manor, I've seen a side of you that seems more…real. You have a conscience, and it's telling you what the right thing to do is. You just have to decide to listen."

Draco rolled his eyes. "What are you, a preacher?"

Hermione frowned at him. "Look, I'm done trying to convince you. You either come with us to the bank or you don't, but you have to make up your mind. Either way, we're not leaving you here."

He scowled at her. "So now I'm to be your prisoner."

"When you're ready to stop being a dick," Hermione retorted, "meet us in the kitchen."

She got up and stormed out of the room. Draco sat on the floor, staring at the spot where she had been, for several minutes. They were asking him to make an impossible decision. He may not entirely believe in the Dark Lord's cause, but he certainly wasn't a saint, either. He had done terrible things, and he didn't understand how anyone could ever forgive him, let alone Granger and her friends. Everything was so confusing. It made his head hurt.

Draco left the bedroom and walked across the hall to the bathroom. Inside, he stripped off his clothes once more and got into the shower. He let the hot water pour over him, nearly scalding his skin. The pain felt good. He was so angry. How did he wind up in this situation? His entire life was so far off from what he had thought it would be at this point. Draco yelled out in frustration, screaming until his throat felt raw. It still wasn't enough. He pulled back and punched the wall of the shower as hard as he could. Then again. And again and again. Blood started to run freely from his split knuckles, mixing with the water and staining the floor of the shower pink. Draco still felt no relief from the turmoil in his chest.

He stood in the shower for a long time, until the blood stopped flowing from his hand, until his skin wrinkled into strange, hypnotic shapes. He eventually shut off the water and stepped out onto the cold tiles. He grabbed his wand from the counter and cast a spell to dry himself off. Then he conjured up a bandage for his hand, redressed, and finally made his way downstairs.

When Draco arrived in the kitchen, Hermione, Ron, and Harry tactfully pretended that they hadn't heard his outburst upstairs. Draco flopped into an empty chair at the table, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"When do we leave?" he asked sullenly.

"Soon," Harry replied. "We need to get this done as quickly as possible."

Draco grunted.

"Harry, I've been thinking," Hermione said. "Maybe we ought to split up."

Draco looked up at her in surprise.

"Why?" Ron asked.

"Well, the people at Gringotts are bound to notice a large group. I think we should establish a new camp before we go to Gringotts, and that one of us should stay there and wait for the rest."

"We're not leaving Malfoy anywhere near our things without someone watching him," Ron growled.

Hermione looked at him, sympathy in her eyes. "I was actually thinking it would be you, Ron."

"What?" he spluttered indignantly. "Why do I always have to sit out?"

Harry frowned at Hermione. "Why do you want Malfoy to go into the bank with us?"

"Apparently because I know how Death Eaters act," Draco said scathingly. "Whatever that means."

"That's only a small part of it," Hermione said.

"What's the other part?" Harry asked curiously.

"Okay, so the plan already is to have me pretend to be Bellatrix. Draco has her wand, so I will be able to gain access to the vault without a problem. Harry, you will sneak in with Griphook, hidden under your invisibility cloak."

Harry waved a hand. "Yes, I know this already."

"When Draco got me out of Malfoy Manor, he accidentally left someone else's hair on my jumper." Hermione pulled a small plastic bag from her pocket. It contained a single long, blonde hair. "This is his dad's," she explained unnecessarily. "If anyone can impersonate him, it's Draco."

Understanding crashed through Draco's chest. His stomach clenched painfully. "You want me to…impersonate my father?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Exactly," Hermione said, as if it were no big deal.

Harry appeared to consider her proposal. "That's actually a very good idea. The goblins would be less likely to question two of You-Know-Who's most loyal followers."

"There may be one problem, though," Draco said. "The Dark Lord borrowed my dad's wand that night that you were moved to a safe-house, Potter, and it was destroyed. He only recently acquired the new one. What if Gringotts doesn't have it on file yet?"

"We just have to hope that they do," Harry answered. "We don't have another choice."

"Fine," Draco said. "I'll help you."

"Then let's go."

Ron stood up from the table first. "I'll fetch Griphook," he mumbled.

"Draco," Hermione said. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"No," he complained. "But I'm doing it anyway, so stop asking." He refused to let it show that he had ulterior motives for accompanying her into the bank.

"Sorry," she replied defensively. "I was just trying to be kind."

"Well stop," Draco said. "I prefer it when we argue anyway."

For some reason, this made Hermione laugh. Harry and Draco watched her in stunned silence.

"What the hell is so funny?" Draco demanded.

"It's just that," she said between giggles, "you remind me so much of Ron sometimes."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "I am nothing like that weasel," he hissed. "For one thing, I at least have a brain."

"Oh, come on Malfoy. She was just joking," Harry said. "You are absolutely nothing like Ron, and we both know it."

"Damn straight," Draco muttered.

Ron came back into the kitchen, followed by Griphook. "All right," he said loudly. "Where are we going to set up our new camp?"

"I think we ought to go somewhere near Hogwarts," Harry suggested. "We're going to need a basilisk fang or something to destroy the rest of the Horcruxes, since the sword will be going with Griphook once we're done at the bank."

"Are you insane?" Draco shouted. "Hogwarts and Hogsmeade are both swarming with Death Eaters and Dementors! We'll be killed on the spot!"

"Actually, there is a place in the mountains behind Hogsmeade that I'm fairly certain will be unprotected," Harry said calmly. "Remember the cave where Sirius stayed during fourth year?" he asked Ron and Hermione.

"Harry, that's brilliant!" Hermione cried.

"All right then. It's settled."

"Excuse me, but I say it's not," Draco said. "What makes you think that the Death Eaters don't know about your cave?"

"Look, Malfoy," Harry snapped. "I've been planning this for a while now. Just let me do my job. Besides, the cave is more than five miles outside of Hogsmeade. What reason would the Death Eaters have to go so far outside of town?"

Draco's temper simmered. "All right," he said angrily. "But know this: I am not dying for any of you." He almost regretted his words after they were out.

"I never expected you to," Harry retorted.

"Let's get on with it, then," Ron said.

Harry slid the sword through a loop on his jeans and had Griphook climb on his back, then took Hermione's arm in one hand and Ron's in the other. Draco reluctantly approached Hermione and took her free hand. Harry Disapparated with a pop! and when Draco examined his new surroundings, he found that they were in front of a cave on the face of a mountain overlooking Hogsmeade. The town looked like a tiny smudge from here. Harry had been right: no Death Eaters would come looking for them this far away.

"So, Ron, you'll stay here with our supplies," Harry said. "Hermione will leave her bag with you—minus anything we'll need while we're gone. You can set up the spare tent if you'd like, or just do whatever."

"Yeah," Ron grumbled.

"Accio invisibility cloak," Hermione said, summoning the cloak from inside her bag.

It flew out of the small beaded handbag and landed in Harry's outstretched hand. He swiftly pulled it on over himself and the goblin, and they disappeared.

"Is that how you managed to get away with so much during school?" Draco asked incredulously.

"It sure was," came Harry's voice from the left.

"Then, in third year, at the Shrieking Shack…that was you?"

Harry laughed. "That was some pretty great fun. No hard feelings, right Malfoy?"

"Right," Draco said sarcastically. "And I don't plan on hexing you in return."

"Well, I guess we'll go now," Hermione said softly. She approached Ron and wrapped her arms around him. "Stay safe." She pulled two small vials from her bag, then handed it to Ron.

Ron looked her in the eyes. "You stay safe," he said gently. "Come back to me."

Hermione stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek before putting the vials in her pocket and walking away. She held out her hands for Draco and Harry to take. Draco reached for her hand; presumably Harry had done the same, because she Disapparated, and then they were inside Mr. Ollivander's abandoned wand shop.

"Good thinking," Draco muttered.

"Okay, here's yours," Hermione said, pulling a vial and the small plastic bag with Lucius's hair from her pocket and handing them to him. "You just add the hair to the potion and drink it."

"I know how Polyjuice Potion works, Granger," Draco said.

"Right. Of course you do." She quickly pulled out her own vial and a plastic bag with a long dark hair inside. She added the hair to the potion and it bubbled before turning a sickly shade of purple. "Bottoms up."

Draco stared at her as she drank the contents of the vial. Hermione shuddered as she swallowed it—the potion clearly tasted vile. Almost immediately, her skin began to transform. Her face widened, she grew a bit taller, and her brown hair became snarled black hair. Draco's mouth nearly dropped open in shock when he saw his aunt standing in the room with him.

"Draco, why haven't you had your potion?"

He flinched at the sound of Bellatrix's voice, even though he knew it was really Hermione. "I was just about to. Get off my back." He carefully removed the hair from the plastic bag and dropped it into the unstoppered vial. A small flurry of sparks shot up from the bottle, then the liquid settled into an eerie silver color.

"Here goes nothing," Draco muttered, downing the contents.

A strange feeling consumed Draco's insides. It felt somewhat like fire, but it didn't burn. He held his hands out in front of his face and watched his fingers elongate until his father's hands had replaced his. A quick touch to his face revealed the hardened planes of Lucius's cheekbones and jaw. Draco could feel his hair hanging down past his shoulder blades. He turned and looked at his murky reflection in the window. His father stared back at him. It was an unnerving sight.

"Let's go," Hermione-Bellatrix said. "Harry, are you still with us?"

"Right here," came a voice from the center of the room.

"Come on, then."

Draco-Lucius carefully followed Hermione-Bellatrix out into the street. He had never seen Diagon Alley so deserted before. Heavy grey clouds hung overhead, darkening the atmosphere substantially. Once outside, Draco-Lucius fell into step beside Hermione-Bellatrix, and they made their way over to Gringotts. A young goblin watched them approach, and opened the door with a low bow. Draco-Lucius noticed that the goblin was shaking with fear, and it caused him a twinge of guilt.

"Identification, please." a goblin said without looking up when they approached his window.

Hermione-Bellatrix placed her wand on the counter. "I hardly think that's necessary," she said coldly.

The goblin looked up. "Miss Lestrange, how good to see you. Are you expected?" he stuttered.

"Since when have we needed appointments to visit the bank?" Draco-Lucius asked pompously.

"Oh, no, Mr. Malfoy, sir. I didn't mean that. I just wondered if you had a specific goblin in mind that you wanted to help you." The goblin was understandably nervous.

"We really couldn't care less," Hermione-Bellatrix said. "But hurry. The Dark Lord is expecting us back within the hour."

Draco-Lucius was impressed with the lie. It would speed up the process for them.

"Very well," squeaked the goblin. "I will escort you myself. But first, Mr. Malfoy, I will have to see your wand. Security measures, you understand."

"Very well," Draco-Lucius drawled. He held up the wand for the goblin's inspection. "Are we done here?"

The goblin hopped down from his seat behind the counter and led them to a door across the room. "Right this way, please."

Hermione-Bellatrix and Draco-Lucius followed the goblin into a dark tunnel. They climbed into a cart sitting on a length of treacherous track.

"What vault will you be visiting today?" The goblin asked.

"Mine," Hermione-Bellatrix said rudely. "Now hurry up."

"Very good," the goblin said. Then he sent them speeding off down the track.

As Draco-Lucius waited for the long ride to be over, he heard some rustling just in front of him. The tip of a wand appeared behind the goblin's back, and Harry's voice whispered, " _Imperio_." Draco-Lucius's eyes widened in surprise. He never thought he would hear The Chosen One use one of the Unforgivable Curses. But, times being what they were, he supposed it was necessary.

After several minutes of flying through the underground, Draco-Lucius watched as they quickly neared a wall of water. Something in his gut told him that it wasn't good. When they splashed through it, he looked to his left and found that Hermione was herself again. Panicked, he realized that the water had washed away their disguises. That was just great. How would they get out now?

"It's the Thief's Downfall," Hermione whispered. "I'd forgotten all about it."

Luckily, the enchanted goblin didn't notice anything had changed, and he guided them the rest of the way to Bellatrix's vault. When the cart slammed to a stop, Draco and Hermione climbed out. Again, the tip of a wand appeared behind the goblin's back, and Harry whispered, " _Stupefy_." The goblin slumped forward in the cart, unconscious.

Harry finally dared to remove the invisibility cloak. Griphook climbed down from his back, then Harry stuffed the cloak into his pocket.

"This way," Griphook said in an authoritative voice.

They followed him down a small pathway that sloped downward. When they reached the end of it, Griphook reached for a set of bells hanging on a hook attached to the wall. Several other pairs hung beside it.

"Grab one," the goblin instructed. "It will keep the dragon from attacking us."

At the mention of a dragon, Draco quickly grabbed a set of bells himself and followed the goblin around the corner. A huge white dragon crouched on the floor outside of a vault. Its body was covered in scars of various lengths. Draco could see that its legs were shackled to the floor.

"That's barbaric," Hermione whispered.

"Shake the bells," Griphook instructed.

Draco did as he said, and they passed by the dragon without incident. Griphook placed his hand against the door of the vault, and several long, loud clicks ensued before the door swung outward.

"Hang on," Draco said quickly. "I've just remembered. Bellatrix placed Germino and Flagrante Curses on everything in the vault. You can't touch anything, or it will multiply and we'll be crushed."

"Then how are we supposed to get the cup?" Harry demanded.

Draco looked around them frantically. Then he saw it. Leaning against a wall—uncomfortably close to the dragon—was a long pole with a spearhead attached at the tip. Draco waved his father's wand and summoned the pole. It flew directly to his outstretched hand.

"Here, use this." He handed the pole to Harry.

"Hermione, light your wand and shine it inside," Harry said. "I can't see a thing in there."

" _Lumos_." Hermione stuck her arm inside the vault, careful to avoid touching any of its contents.

Harry frantically scanned through everything lining the walls and heaped upon the floor. The longer he took, the more anxious he got. "I don't see it anywhere!"

Draco peered around his shoulder. "There. In the far right corner, on the top shelf. Is that it?" He could just barely make out what looked like an elegant H carved into the surface of the cup he'd pointed out.

"Yes!" Hermione shouted. "That's it. I remember seeing a picture of it in _Hogwarts, a History_."

Harry slowly maneuvered the pole into the vault. He took a small step inside, and with a stretch of his arm, managed to hook the handle of the cup around the spearhead. Triumphant at his success, Harry accidentally withdrew the pole too fast, and it knocked against several suits of armor and a pile of galleons. Treasure began multiplying and spreading across the floor of the vault.

"Hurry, close the door!" Draco shouted.

Hermione yanked on the handle, and the door swung shut with a loud clang. Ear-shattering sounds came from behind the door, indicating that the treasure was still multiplying. Goblins were going to start coming to investigate the breach soon. Hermione quickly waved her wand at the cup, reversing Bellatrix's curses so that they could touch it. Then she pulled it off the end of the spear.

"We've got to go," Harry said. "Come on, I have an idea!"

"Wait!" screeched Griphook. "I want my sword!"

"Right." Harry withdrew the sword from his belt loop and handed it over. "Thanks again for helping us."

Griphoook ran off up the passage without a word or a glance back.

"This way," urged Harry.

He waved Hermione and Draco in the direction of the dragon. He ran up to it and, waving his wand, broke the shackles from the dragon's feet. The dragon roared—it almost sounded grateful—and reared up on its hind legs. Harry rattled the set of bells that he still held in one hand, and the dragon settled back down.

"Climb on its back!" Harry shouted.

"Are you mad?" Draco yelled back.

"We don't have any other choice!" Harry was right. Already they could hear footsteps and shouts racing down the passage.

Draco ran to the dragon's side while Harry shook the bells. He gestured to Hermione, and she allowed him to lift her onto the dragon's back. Draco climbed on behind her.

"Potter, let's go!" he shouted.

Harry continued to shake the bells as he approached the dragon's side. Draco leaned down and held out his hand for Harry to grasp. At the last second, Harry dropped the bells, grabbed Draco's hand, and hauled himself onto the dragon's. He settled himself behind Draco just as a group of goblins and Death Eaters ran into view, then the dragon extended its wings and took to the air in a burst of energy.

It roared again, and aimed itself skyward; Draco looked up and saw a glass dome above them, yet the dragon continued to flap closer to the glass. Draco wondered how they would survive the impact.

"Duck!" he yelled. Then he pointed his wand at the dome and bellowed, " _Reducto!_ "

The glass above them blasted outward, and the dragon soared into the evening sky.

"What now?" Hermione yelled over her shoulder. The wind whipping past their faces made it hard to hear.

"I haven't figured that part out yet!" Harry hollered back.

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes at Harry. Of course he didn't have a contingency plan. Draco reached around Hermione—it felt far too intimate—and grabbed hold of the dragon's collar. He steered it higher into the sky so that they wouldn't be seen, then guided it towards the mountains. The dragon reached the edge of the mountains in next to no time. Draco pulled its collar to the side, and the dragon began descending toward the ground. A lake rushed up to meet them.

"We have to jump!" Draco said.

Without question, Harry and Hermione prepared themselves to dive into the lake. When the dragon was close enough, they flung themselves from the dragon's back and splashed into the water. Draco immediately kicked upward, and soon broke the surface of the water. He continued to tread water, waiting and watching for Harry and Hermione. Harry emerged from the water a few feet from Draco, but still Hermione was missing.

"Where's Granger?" Draco hollered.

"I thought she was with you," Harry said in a panicked voice.

"Damn." Draco took a deep breath and dove back under the water, looking every which way for Hermione.

Several yards away, he spotted her near the bottom of the lake. She was tangled in a patch of pondweed. Hufflepuff's cup rested in the silt below her. Hermione struggled against the strands wrapped around her ankle, her face a mask of terror. Draco swam over to her. When she saw him, her eyes widened, and she gestured frantically to the pondweed at her feet. Draco nodded and dove for the plant, pulling it from around her legs. When she was free, he turned to watch her swim away, but was horrified when he realized she was unconscious. He wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her upward.

When his face broke the surface of the water, he greedily sucked in air. But his job wasn't finished yet. Draco towed Hermione to shore. Harry stood at the edge of the water, waiting anxiously.

"Hermione!" Harry cried.

Draco didn't acknowledge Harry as he hauled Hermione out of the lake and laid her on her back. She wasn't breathing. Panic engulfed his chest. She couldn't die, not now. Not after she made it out of Gringotts alive. It wasn't fair. Draco vaguely remembered learning a Muggle reviving technique one summer, and he immediately began pumping down on Hermione's chest right above her heart.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Draco stopped his compressions, carefully tilted Hermione's head back, and placed his mouth against hers. Hermione's chest rose and fell with borrowed air. Draco waited for a response, but none came. He began compressions again.

"Come on," he murmured. "Don't leave me."

Harry nervously paced back and forth several feet away, occasionally glancing at Hermione's prone form. "Ron is going to kill me," he said desperately.

"Shut up, Potter. You're breaking my concentration," Draco barked.

This time, when Draco tilted Hermione's head back and pressed his lips to hers, he forgot all about breathing for her. His hands cupped her face, and the life-saving technique became a kiss of desperation. Draco's heart pounded painfully against his ribcage. He fervently wished that he could transfer life back into Hermione.

Draco lifted his head, prepared to begin compressions again, when Hermione coughed. Lake water expelled itself from her lungs, and she gasped for air. Draco sat back on his heels, watching her carefully. After the longest minute of Draco's life, Hermione finally sat up. She stared at Draco in astonishment.

"How do you know CPR?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"Doesn't matter," Draco muttered.

"You saved my life again," she said, awestruck.

A reply got stuck in Draco's throat. He stood up and moved away so that Harry could fuss over Hermione. He watched them, his expression guarded. He was mortified at his loss of control just moments earlier. Rather than stand there and watch the object of his affection, he dove back into the lake to retrieve the Horcrux.


	4. Respite

Chapter 4: Respite

* * *

Harry didn't want to wait to Apparate back to the cave.

"We're not safe here, Malfoy!" he yelled.

"And she— " He roughly waved an arm in Hermione's direction. "—nearly drowned! Give her a bloody minute or two, will you?" Draco glanced at Hermione then, and was surprised to see a look of confusion on her face. "What?" he asked, harsher than he meant to.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You…you keep looking out for me."

Shit. "What are you talking about, Granger?" Draco asked, trying hard to sound annoyed.

"I'm talking about how you keep trying to protect me," she responded calmly. "After you rescued me from your aunt, you wanted to wait a few days so I could recover before moving on. You're doing the same thing now."

Draco shook his head. "You're misunderstanding, then," he argued. "I'm not protecting you, I'm just not a moron. You can't go through that kind of physical trauma and then go skipping through a field of flowers the next day!" His voice rose the longer he spoke.

"Well you can stop whatever it is you're doing," Hermione snapped. "I think I know my own limits better than you do, Malfoy."

"Then we should get back to Ron," Harry said. He picked up Hufflepuff's cup from the grass where it lay drying.

"Let's go." Hermione roughly snatched Draco's hand and, making sure she had a hold on Harry, Apparated back to the cave.

"Blimey!" Ron shouted when they appeared. "What took you guys so long?"

"It was a little bit more complicated than we anticipated, but we're okay," Hermione told him.

"Why're you all wet?"

Draco smirked and threw the Horcrux to the floor of the cave with a reverberating clang! "We had to jump off a dragon's back into a lake."

Ron's eyes went wide. "WHAT?"

"You heard me."

Ron turned to Harry. "He's lying, right? Really, why are you guys wet?"

Harry sighed. "He's telling the truth. We hit a bit of a snag, but it's not a big deal."

"The hell it isn't!"

"Ron," Hermione said softly. "We're fine. That's all that matters."

He scowled at her, but relented. "Can I talk to you alone?"

Hermione nodded and followed Ron out the mouth of the cave.

Draco was ridiculously curious. He turned to see what Harry was doing and was pleased to find that he was currently examining a book with intense concentration. Quietly, Draco moved to the mouth of the cave. Ron and Hermione were just a few feet down the hill, and Draco could hear them, even though they were talking quietly.

"…the way he looks at you."

"Ron, stop. He's just trying to help," Hermione said.

"You don't know that. What if he really is spying for You-Know-Who? What if the rescue was all staged? We can't trust him." It sounded like Ron was begging.

Hermione sighed. "You weren't there when he stopped Bellatrix. The look on his face—you can't fake that."

"There it is again! I still think he looks at you all wrong. Like you belong to him or something."

"That doesn't matter to me. Let him look at me however he wants to, because you know I love you."

Draco's breath caught. So it was true. She did love the weasel.

"Yeah, I do," Ron said gently. "I love you, too. I shouldn't let him get under my skin so much."

"You really shouldn't." Draco could hear the smile in her voice. "But I understand why you do. There's a really long history there."

Draco sighed. She was right, of course. Why he'd been such a prick in school, he couldn't fathom. And now she would never—he stopped that thought in its tracks. What right did he have to think he knew who she should be with?

"D'you trust him?" Ron asked.

There was a pause. "Yes…it's not just because he saved us, either." Draco imagined Hermione cutting off Ron's objection before it began. He smiled.

"I don't think I can bring myself to trust him. There's just too much that's happened telling me not to."

"I know, Ron. But if you can't trust him, then trust me."

Silence ensued. Draco tried very hard not to imagine Ron's tongue down her throat, but it was difficult. He stood up and paced back into the cave, angry.

"Hey guys?" Harry called. "Can you come here?"

Ron and Hermione quickly appeared at the mouth of the cave.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"You-Know-Who is still at Hogwarts," Harry sighed, leaning his back against the cave wall.

"How do you know?" Ron asked.

Harry looked down at his feet. "Vision," he mumbled.

Hermione gave him a disappointed look, then reached into her bag. She pulled out a square of parchment, tapped it with her wand, and muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Draco watched curiously as ink began to spread across the page from the tip of her wand. When she unfolded the parchment, it showed a map of Hogwarts. "Where did you get that?" he asked incredulously.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "From Fred and George Weasley, but they didn't make it."

"Who did?"

"Er," Harry stalled. "It was my dad and his friends when they were in school."

Draco's eyebrows rose as he watched the labeled dots move around in the castle. "It's impressive." Then something dawned on him. "Is that how you always seemed to be following me last year, Potter?"

Harry refused to meet Draco's stare.

"Well?"

"Yes, Draco. That's how he was keeping tabs on you, but that hardly matters right now," Hermione pitched in. Then she turned her attention back to the map. "Strange."

"What's strange?" Ron asked.

"The map refers to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as Tom Riddle."

"Who?" Draco asked.

"Tom Riddle is his given name," Hermione answered.

"The thing that's really special about the map is that no disguises, pseudonyms, or invisibility cloaks can fool it. In third year, when we found out that Ron's rat, Scabbers, was really Peter Pettigrew, it was the map that first told me." Harry looked thoughtful. "I wonder why I never noticed in fourth year that Barty Crouch, Jr. was impersonating Moody."

"You may have forgotten, Harry," Hermione said with a smile, "but you were pretty busy that year fighting dragons and mermaids…and You-Know-Who."

Harry snapped his fingers. "Oh, right. I'd totally forgotten," he said sarcastically.

Draco felt an amused smile start to creep onto his face and quickly fought it back before anyone noticed.

"And now that I think about it," Harry mused, "I remember seeing something on the map the night I finally figured out the clue in the egg. Crouch was rummaging around Snape's office, but I'd assumed it was Crouch Senior. The map didn't differentiate between the two. And Moody kept it after that night."

"So what's the plan?" Draco asked, changing the subject. "We obviously can't get into Hogwarts with the Dark Lord haunting the corridors."

"Not to mention that he'd kill you on sight," Hermione said.

"Yes, there's also that."

"I feel fairly certain that he will be leaving soon," Harry said confidently. "The main reasons being that we escaped from Malfoy Manor— "

"And my family must be punished," Draco cut in.

"And that we stole the Horcrux from Gringotts," Harry finished like Draco hadn't interrupted.

"Exactly how are we supposed to know when You-Know-Who is leaving?" Ron asked.

"That's what I don't know. We'll just have to keep watching the map and go in as soon as he's gone." Harry shrugged.

"So we're just stuck here in this cave until then?" Draco asked.

"Yeah."

"Harry, there's one more problem," Hermione said worriedly. "Remember back in September when we read in the Prophet about the staffing changes at Hogwarts?"

"We're doomed," Draco said. "Alecto and Amycus Carrow are teaching now, and Snape has been made Headmaster."

"Not to mention that there are probably hundreds of other Death Eaters and dementors guarding the grounds," Ron added helpfully.

"There are dozens of secret passageways into the school, though," Harry reasoned.

Hermione shook her head. "No, Harry. Remember last year? We blocked them off."

Draco blanched. He knew what day she was referring to, and he wished he could take it all back. He was disgusted with the things he'd done, but at the same time, he hadn't wanted to die, so he had followed orders. It was a hopeless situation. Staring at his hands, Draco muttered, "I'm sorry."

Harry's head snapped up to look at him. "What?"

Draco scowled. "Forget it, Potter." He wasn't about to apologize twice.

Hermione met his gaze curiously, and Draco saw something flash in her eyes; he wondered briefly if she'd heard his whispered apology. Before the moment got awkward, Draco turned his head and looked out of the cave entrance, examining the scene before him. The others remained silent, trying to figure out a way into the school without being caught. Something niggled at the back of Draco's mind. He turned back to Harry.

"You mentioned needing basilisk fangs yesterday," he said. "How did you plan on getting them?"

"You remember second year?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Potter. I was there." Draco rolled his eyes.

"The monster that was petrifying everyone was a basilisk. The Chamber of Secrets was real, and Ron and I found it looking for his sister."

"And you plan on fighting a giant snake again?"

"It's dead, Malfoy," Harry said patiently.

"Oh."

"Harry, remember how the basilisk got around in the school?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah. Why?" he asked.

"Those pipes have to lead somewhere," Hermione reasoned. "Maybe if we can find where they let out, we'll have our way into the school."

"That's brilliant, Hermione!" Ron said.

She blushed. "Figuring things out is my specialty."

"Where is the most likely place for the pipes to empty, though?" Harry asked. "They wouldn't empty into the Black Lake—would they?"

"It was wet down in the chamber, right?" she asked.

"Yeah. There was water everywhere."

"What if the pipes ran under the lake?"

"We could spend days trying to find where it resurfaces," Draco cut in. "We don't have that kind of time, do we?"

"Well, if we absolutely had to make that kind of time, we would," Harry said. "But I'd prefer not to, of course."

"So if we can get into the Chamber of Secrets and get a few fangs off that snake, we can sneak back out of the school without being noticed?" Draco asked.

"Not exactly," Hermione said. "We still have to find Ravenclaw's artifact."

"But we don't even know what it is!"

"We could split up again," Ron suggested. "Hermione and I could do research to try and find out what the Horcrux might be, and the two of you could search around the lake for the sewer entrance."

"That's a pretty good idea," Harry said. "Are you sure you don't want to be the one to come with me, Ron? You did stay behind when we went to Gringotts."

Ron looked at Hermione, and a flush crept up his neck. "Nah, I'm fine here."

"All right, then." Harry turned to look at Draco. "Shall we get started now?"

Draco raised his eyebrows. "I suppose."

"Excellent. Hermione, if you and Ron find something, send your Patronus to find us. We'll do the same," Harry instructed.

Harry and Draco left the cave and began the trek down the side of the mountain. They walked in silence for a while, Draco contemplating their circumstances. When did he become so willing to help the three people he used to hate most in the world? He knew when things had changed in respect to Hermione, of course, but why did he continue to comply with Potter and Weasley? It really made no sense.

"So you really can produce a full-fledged Patronus?" Draco finally asked.

"Been able to since third year," Harry said.

Draco nodded. "I've never tried the spell myself. I guess I never really had cause to use it."

"You could try while we walk to the lake, if you want," Harry suggested. "It can come in handy."

"I dunno." Draco hesitated. "How does it even work?"

Harry glanced at him. "It's fairly simple. You just have to think of your happiest memory when you say the incantation."

Draco scowled. "What happens if I have no such memory?"

"Are you serious?" Harry asked, shocked. "You can't even think of one thing?"

"It shouldn't come as much of a surprise to you, Potter. You know who my father is. He didn't exactly raise me in a loving home, and my mother was always too afraid of him to act differently. My family is…" He shook his head. "No, my life has not been happy."

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I didn't realize that you had it so bad at home."

"I don't want your sympathy," Draco spat. "It doesn't help."

Harry nodded. They continued in silence for a moment. "You know, you might still have a chance at a good life," Harry finally said. "There's always hope."

Draco scoffed. "I don't think happiness was ever in the cards for me."

"But you've changed everything by leaving You-Know-Who," Harry pressed. "Who's to say you can't still find it?"

"If I'd wanted to get all sentimental, Potter, I would've told you."

By that point they'd reached the base of the mountain. Harry looked both ways for a moment, contemplating, then he moved to the right, parallel to the mountain. As they moved closer to Hogwarts, a thought occurred to Draco.

"Potter, I've just thought: it seems most likely that the pipes would come back up in Hogsmeade. The lake meets up by the train station."

Harry frowned. "You're right. How are we supposed to get into Hogsmeade without being seen?"

"Maybe there's another way into the pipes?" Draco suggested.

"It's possible, I suppose."

"This task seems impossible," Draco complained. "Why are you the one doing it?"

"Dumbledore wanted me to do it," Harry replied. "We spent a lot of time last year figuring out what the Horcruxes might be. The night he died, he told me to continue finding them and destroying them."

Draco was silent for a moment. "I didn't want to do it, you know," he said quietly.

"What?"

"Kill him."

"You didn't," Harry said. "I was there, I saw what happened."

Draco looked at him in surprise. "You were there?"

Harry nodded. "Dumbledore put a full body-bind on me and hid me under my invisibility cloak when he heard you coming."

"Maybe I should just turn myself in to the Death Eaters," Draco mumbled. "I deserve to die."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked incredulously.

"You know I'm the one that helped the Death Eaters get into the school." Draco folded his arms. "It's my fault that Dumbledore is dead. And that's not counting the two botched attempts on his life I made earlier in the year. I almost killed Weasley and that Chaser on your Quidditch team."

"I was on the Astronomy tower that night. I saw what happened. If Bellatrix hadn't shown up when she did, you would've let Dumbledore help you. I could see it on your face," Harry insisted.

Draco shook his head. "I don't know what would've happened," he said. "How can you know what I would've done if I still don't know myself?"

"Look," Harry said, somewhat impatient. "I know what it's like to feel responsible for someone's death. In fifth year, my godfather was killed because You-Know-Who tricked me into luring him to the Ministry. I still feel guilty over it. And that's how I know you wouldn't have killed Dumbledore—because you regret your part in it now. I think Dumbledore would actually be proud of you."

"Why do you trust me?" Draco asked after a few more minutes of silence.

"Partly because I don't have another choice, but mostly because you saved Hermione's life. Twice. You may feel responsible for Dumbledore's death, but you've more than made up for it by saving us."

Draco kicked a rock and it flew several feet forward. "I'm lost and confused, Potter. I got shoved face-first into a war I never wanted a part in."

"Tell me about it," Harry said ironically.

Draco chuckled. "I suppose you've had it pretty rough, too."

Harry shrugged. "I used to think so, but not so much anymore."

"Really?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "Your parents were murdered, you were raised by abusive Muggles, you've encountered You-Know-Who every single year since starting at Hogwarts, and you've lost your godfather. That's a lot of shit to feel sorry for yourself over."

"Yeah, I know." Harry nodded. "For a long time, especially during fifth year, I felt the same way. It was worse after Sirius died. But it was Ron and Hermione that reminded me how much I still had to live for. If not for myself, for them, for everyone that's living under You-Know-Who's tyranny."

"Myself included," Draco said thoughtfully, surprised that he was enjoying the unexpected comradery.

"I know it sounds stupid, but I am the only one that can face You-Know-Who and defeat him. It's been my responsibility since the night he murdered my parents. I didn't want the job, but, like you said, I was shoved face-first into it. I had to make peace with it."

"How?" Draco was honestly curious. How can someone who's lost everything keep moving forward?

"It wasn't easy," Harry said seriously. "It still isn't. Sometimes I find myself back in a dark place, but I have my friends to help me. They remind me why I'm doing this and what our futures will be once the war is over."

"I don't have any friends, not anymore."

Harry stopped walking and turned to face Draco. "It may not mean anything to you," he said, "but you could always start with me. And I'm sure Hermione wouldn't object, either."

Draco scowled. "Are you my only options?" he asked sarcastically.

Harry grinned. "For now, yeah. Even if you don't want to be friends, I'll make sure everyone knows how much you did to help end the war. You won't be hated and feared like your father; I'll make sure of it."

Draco frowned. "Good luck with that, Potter," he said. "But thank you for the offer."

"Did you just say thank you?" Harry said, feigning shock.

"Shut up, Potter."

"Sorry."

They resumed walking, and soon the edge of the Black Lake was in sight. Draco scanned the length of the water's edge in both directions, but nothing extraordinary stood out. Just as they were about to turn right, with Hogsmeade at their backs, a gleaming silver otter danced up.

"We've figured it out." Hermione's voice came from the otter before it evaporated into the evening air.

"We've got to go back!" Harry said excitedly. "Hurry!"

"Can't we just Apparate?" Draco asked. "It's a really long walk back."

"Yeah, good idea." Harry vanished with a pop!

Draco sighed and followed Harry's lead.

When they were both back in the cave, Hermione ran toward them, waving a book in the air. "I knew this book was worth reading!"

Draco examined the spine. _Hogwarts, a History_.

"Honestly," she continued. "I don't know why you two never bothered. Listen to this." She opened the book and began reading aloud. " _The founders of Hogwarts were famous for many things. Rowena Ravenclaw was always known for her cleverness and thirst for knowledge. In her tireless efforts to learn the secrets of the known world, she came across a rare gem. Legend said that the gem had the ability to grant its owner complete knowledge of everything in existence. Ravenclaw then fashioned a diadem in which she placed the gem._ " Hermione looked up at them all with an excited expression. "Well?"

"Well what?" Draco asked.

Hermione frowned. "The Horcrux has to be Ravenclaw's diadem! Don't you see?" She turned the book around and showed a sketch of what the diadem was thought to look like.

A weight dropped into Draco's stomach. "Oh my God," he said. "I know where it is."

Harry stared at him in shock. "What?"

"It's in the Room of Requirement. I found it when I was repairing the vanishing cabinet last year—it was on top of the cabinet one day when I went in to work on it."

"Hermione," Harry said slowly. "When I stashed the Half-Blood Prince's potions textbook in the Room of Requirement, I put the diadem on top of a broken bust of some ugly warlock. I just thought that it was an old tiara, though. I can't believe I touched it and didn't know what it was!"

"Well it's no use feeling guilty about it," Hermione scolded. "At least we know where it is now."

"Yeah, but we still have to figure out a way inside the castle," Ron said. "It's no use to us if we can't get into the Room of Requirement."

Draco looked around the cave at everyone. "I have an idea."


	5. Nightmares and Daydreams

Chapter 5: Nightmares and Daydreams

* * *

"You really think it still works?" Hermione asked.

"I spent half of last year repairing it. It damn well better still work," Draco replied.

"Let's get on with it, then," Harry said anxiously.

"Er, Potter? We can't exactly leave right now. It's dark out. Borgin and Burkes will be closed." Draco enunciated each word carefully.

"Right. Sorry."

"Well, couldn't we at least go to London to wait for morning?" Ron asked.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Ron," Hermione said. "You-Know-Who has all kinds of wards up around the city at night. We could be found."

"It doesn't matter," Harry said, waving a hand. "We can Apparate there in the morning."

A short silence filled the cave.

"Does anyone have something to eat? I'm famished," Ron said.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Do you never stop eating?"

Ron glared at him. "Shut it, Malfoy."

Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a box of crackers. "Here, Ron."

"You're the best, 'Mione," he said, already shoving a handful of crackers in his mouth.

Draco grimaced at him. "That's bloody disgusting."

Ron determinedly ignored Draco's comment, instead focusing wholeheartedly on stuffing as many crackers in his mouth as would fit. Harry chuckled at his friend's antics and picked up Hermione's copy of Hogwarts, a History.

"Are you finally going to read it, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, God no. I just wanted to have another look at the diadem," Harry said, slightly revolted.

"I honestly don't know how you two ever passed first year, let alone got all the way to NEWT level classes. You're both idiots!" Hermione folded her arms, looking cross.

Draco snickered. "Now that's something we can agree on," he said under his breath.

Hermione frowned at him. "I don't suppose you have ever read a book in your life, either," she said nastily.

Draco calmly raised an eyebrow. "I will have you know, Granger, that I passed every single OWL in fifth year with an 'O.' I don't suppose you did that well?"

She seemed shocked. "No, I didn't. I only got an 'E' in Defense."

Draco wisely didn't comment on that statement, instead choosing to ask, "Is it really so surprising to learn that I have a brain?"

"Well no, but..."

"What, Granger? No witty retort?" Draco smirked.

"I just assumed— "

"Yeah, everyone did. Just because I come from a wealthy pure-blood family doesn't mean that I make other people do everything for me." Draco was surprised to find that he felt a bit melancholy over the recollection, rather than bitter.

"It never really occurred to me that prejudice can go both ways," Hermione said after a pause. "When we first met, you didn't like me because I'm Muggle-born, and I didn't like you because I assumed you were a stuck-up rich kid."

Draco smiled wryly. "Well, to be fair, I was. I was quite a prat, really. But I was also eleven, and really only knew what my parents had taught me about the Wizarding world. I bought into their lies because it was easy."

"I suppose we were all prats, in our own way," Hermione mused. "None of us had any experience in the real world."

"It's really different out here, isn't it?" Draco said softly.

"Definitely not what I expected." Hermione yawned. "I think I'm going to try and get some sleep now."

Draco nodded stiffly. The cave floor wasn't exactly comfortable, but he figured it would have to do for one night. Without saying anything to the others, he moved to the front edge of the cave and stretched out on the ground. Tomorrow everything could be different. Tomorrow the war could be over.

* * *

 _It was dark. Draco slowly climbed the stairs to the Astronomy tower, dread writhing through his insides. He held his wand out in front of him, but he wanted to chuck it out the window. Damn the Dark Lord for giving him this assignment. He always knew it would be a suicide mission._

 _He reached the top of the stairs and heard voices on the other side of the closed door. One of them definitely belonged to Dumbledore, and he was fairly certain of who owned the second. Taking a deep breath, Draco burst outside onto the roof of the tower. Dumbledore was alone, standing against the battlements on the far side. Draco looked all around, but it appeared as if he had the headmaster cornered. He raised his wand and pointed it at Dumbledore._

 _"Expelliarmus!"_

 _Dumbledore's wand flew out of his hand and off of the tower._

 _"You don't have to do this, Draco."_

 _"Yes I do. He'll kill me." Draco's hand shook, making his wand unsteady._

 _"I can keep you safe."_

 _"No you can't. Nobody can. I was dead the moment he chose me for this task."_

 _"You don't want to kill me; I know you don't."_

 _"Of course I don't! But I don't have a choice!"_

 _"Then let me help you."_

 _Draco began to lower his wand. Dumbledore took a step forward, but it startled Draco, and before he could stop himself, he'd raised his wand and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"_

 _Dumbledore's face went slack, and his body plummeted over the top of the tower wall._

 _"No!" Draco shouted. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"_

"Draco?"

 _He whipped around, but he was still alone on top of the tower._

"Draco, wake up. It's Hermione."

"I'm sorry, come back," Draco muttered, tossing and turning on the hard ground.

Hermione reached out and gently shook his shoulder.

"NO!" Draco bolted upright, panting and looking around wildly.

"Hey, it was just a bad dream," Hermione soothed, rubbing his arm. "It's okay."

Draco focused on Hermione's face. A wave of relief washed through him, followed immediately by a rush of guilt. He hid his face in his hands. "It's my fault," he moaned.

Hermione frowned. "What's your fault?"

"He's dead because of me."

"Who is, Draco?"

"Dumbledore."

"No." Hermione shook her head. "He's dead because of You-Know-Who."

Draco looked back up at her, scowling. "But he might still be alive if I hadn't cornered him on that bloody tower."

"Maybe," she conceded. "But then you'd be dead. How is that any better?"

"At least Dumbledore would've stood a chance at defeating the Dark Lord. All I can do is run for my life and hope he never finds me." Draco's shoulders slumped. "I was dead the moment he gave me that assignment. I always knew that."

Hermione stared at him for a moment. Then, with a determined look on her face, she wrapped her arms around him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Draco yelped.

"It's called a hug, Draco." She stayed where she was.

"Well stop!"

"Not until you feel better."

Draco scoffed. "Then we're going to be here for a really long time, Granger. I don't even know what better feels like anymore."

Hermione lifted one of Draco's arms and draped it over her shoulder. "You're supposed to hug back."

He rolled his eyes, but did as she told him. She was far too stubborn to listen to his rebuff. Hermione rubbed calming circles on his back, and, oddly enough, Draco felt his tense muscles relax. He would probably never understand how she always managed to have that effect on him.

"There," she said, pulling away. "Isn't that better?"

Draco smirked. "Sure, Granger."

She gazed at him, the starlight reflecting in her brown eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "I've never had anyone to talk to about it before. My parents would never understand."

"You're not with them anymore," she coaxed. "You don't have to continue to live as if you are."

"I don't know how to be different," Draco said, shrugging.

"How about I go first, to show you how it works. Then you can tell me about your dream."

Draco looked at Hermione in concern. "You had a nightmare?"

She nodded. "I was already up when you started screaming."

"What was yours about?"

Hermione folded her hands on her lap. "Before we started looking for the Horcruxes, I erased my parents' memories of me and sent them to Australia. You know, so they'd be safe from the war. That was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do. My dream started out there. Then, as I was walking away from my house, I was grabbed and taken to…"

"Yes?" Draco prompted.

"Bellatrix," she whispered.

Draco nodded. "And you dreamed about her torturing you."

"Yes. I've never been so scared as I was when she pointed her wand at me that day." Hermione looked over at him quickly. "I'm sorry, I know she's your family."

Draco looked at her, an amused expression on his face. "We may have been related, but I've always hated that nutter. She's bloody crazy."

Hermione looked surprised. "Really?"

"The day she broke out of Azkaban was the second worst day of my life. The first was when I got home for summer break that same year; she was at my house, and she greeted me with the Cruciatus Curse." He chuckled sardonically.

"Oh," Hermione muttered. "I thought she was only that way with Muggle-borns."

"Nope. I think the only person she treats with any kind of respect is the Dark Lord."

"How awful." Hermione wrapped her arms around her torso, shivering.

"Are you cold?" Draco asked. He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it across her shoulders.

She smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

Draco shrugged.

"So, d'you want to tell me about your dream?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"I'm sure Potter's told you what happened on the Astronomy tower the night Dumbledore died." He waited, and Hermione nodded. "I dreamed about that night, only this time nobody burst in on us, and…and I went through with it. I killed him."

"Oh, Draco," Hermione said softly. "That's terrible. I'm so sorry."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "It seems like nothing compared to your nightmare."

"That doesn't mean it's any less horrid for you. We all have things we're afraid of. Just because they're different doesn't mean they're any less significant."

"I can't believe I ever doubted that you are the brightest witch of our age," Draco said softly.

Hermione smiled. "And to think that I believed you incapable of a compliment."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I was never incapable; I just didn't want anyone to think I liked them or anything."

"Oh, no, we couldn't have that, could we? Draco Malfoy, being nice? The world might have ended." Hermione winked.

"No, it's ending because I helped the Death Eaters kill Dumbledore," he said darkly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," she whispered.

"Doesn't mean it's not the truth."

"Look," Hermione said. "We've all done things we're not proud of. The world isn't black and white, Draco. We've been living in a grey area since fourth year, and you know it."

"Do I?" Draco shook his head. "I certainly haven't acted like it."

"Actions don't always determine belief. Think about it: you didn't like being a Death Eater, but you were too afraid to change anything until recently."

"Is that what you think? That I was too afraid?"

Hermione looked at him with a faint smile of amusement. "It's okay to admit that. Being afraid of something doesn't make you a coward. People always assume that I'm brave because I'm in Gryffindor, but I'm afraid every single day that we're out here. That doesn't mean that I give up. I might be scared of a lot of things, but I'm still fighting to build a world where I don't have to be afraid anymore."

Draco sighed. "You're right," he said softly. "I was too afraid. I'm still afraid. But don't tell Potter and Weasley. They'd never let me forget it."

Hermione mimed zipping her lips shut. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Can I tell you another secret?" he blurted out.

"Of course."

"That day, at the Manor. I wasn't going to do anything to help, not at first."

"So why did you?" she asked curiously.

Draco scratched his head. "It was hard enough watching my aunt torture you for information you clearly didn't have. I couldn't just let her kill you."

Hermione remained silent for a long time, listening to the crickets chirping around them. "Why not?" she finally asked. "We were never friends, so why did it matter if I died or not?"

"Because I…I never really hated you. In fact, I— " he stopped, reminding himself that he had to keep his secret.

"You what?" She reached out and put her hand on top of Draco's.

"I like you," Draco whispered so softly that he couldn't even hear himself.

"Sorry?" Hermione asked. "I didn't catch that."

"I said to forget it," he said a little louder. "It doesn't matter now."

"As horrible as you could be to me in school, I don't think I ever hated you. Not really." Hermione looked up at the night sky.

"Oh?" Draco asked, following her gaze.

"Quite the contrary," she said. "Even though I was an insufferable know-it-all, I always tried to see the best in other people. And I tried so hard to do that with you. Most of the time, I like to think I was successful."

"Honestly? What redeeming qualities could I possibly possess?"

"I'm not saying you made it easy," Hermione admonished. "But if I was paying enough attention, I could see that you were a fiercely loyal friend. You didn't want others to know it, but you studied hard and you were top wizard in our class. You respected the professors, if nobody else, and, though you hid it well, you were never really all that entitled."

He was dumbfounded that she'd been watching him for so long. "Why did you pay such close attention to me, Granger?"

Hermione looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "I wish you'd stop calling me that."

"You would rather I called you Hermione?" Draco asked disbelievingly.

She shivered. "Yes. And, to answer your question…it's rather embarrassing, actually…I think I'll keep that to myself."

"Oh come on, Gran—I mean, Hermione. You can't dangle that out there and not tell me!"

"You did the same thing to me. Why not?"

"Because you're nicer than I am, that's why." Draco smirked.

"I'll tell you if you tell me." Hermione folded her arms.

Draco gulped, then stuck out a hand. "Deal."

Hermione reached out and shook it. "I had a bit of a crush on you."

His eyes opened wide. "What? When?"

She bit her lip. "Third year, mostly."

"Oh." Draco went silent.

"Now what was it that you didn't want to tell me?" Hermione asked.

Draco's heart stopped. "Oh, I, er…well…"

"Come on, I told you," she pushed.

"Same thing," he finally muttered.

"What's the same thing?" she asked, brow furrowed.

He groaned. "Don't make me say it."

"Say what? I have no idea what you're talking about!" Hermione said huffily.

"That I like you!" Draco nearly shouted. "I've bloody liked you for years!" When he realized what had happened, Draco stopped breathing for a second. He moved to stand up, but stopped when he felt Hermione grab his wrist. He looked back down at her.

"You…like me? Present tense?" she asked cautiously.

There was no turning back now. "But I shouldn't have said anything. You're with Weasley, so it doesn't matter."

"No, I'm glad you told me. A lot more about this whole situation makes sense now." Hermione looked at him carefully. "But Ron and I, we're not together."

Draco frowned. "Could've fooled me. I accidentally overheard you earlier saying that you loved him. And he said it to you."

"It's true, I do love him, but I'm not always sure in what way."

"What do you mean? How can you not know how you feel about somebody?"

Hermione sighed. "He and Harry have been my best friends for years. And I love them both, but sometimes it feels different with Ron. I love Harry like a brother, but with Ron…I like to think it's more, but…"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "But what?" he asked, fighting back the ridiculously hopeful feeling rising in his chest.

"Well, he's never kissed me or even held my hand. Not in a romantic way. It's like we're still friends, except that we say 'I love you' now. It's all very confusing."

"I'd offer advice, but it's not exactly my area of expertise," he chuckled.

"But I thought you and Pansy were dating," Hermione said, confused.

"Eugh. I was hoping you'd forgotten about that. It was a stupid mistake. One bloody time, and she thought I'd bloody proposed or something." Draco shuddered.

"'One bloody time…'" she repeated, clearly not understanding.

"Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

She blushed. "Oh."

They were silent again for a while. It was peaceful out there, just the two of them.

"So now what?" Draco finally asked.

"Hmm?" Hermione turned to look at him.

"What happens now?"

"I'm not opposed to trying to be friends," she said, shrugging.

"I can't promise I'll be any good at it," Draco warned.

"I think you're already doing a pretty swell job."


	6. A Way In

Chapter Six: A Way In

* * *

"Shhh."

"You're standing on my foot!"

"Get out of the way, then."

"Would you all shut up?"

Draco, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all crowded into a dark alleyway behind Borgin & Burkes in Knockturn Alley. The sun was just beginning to rise over the tops of the buildings, leaving most everything in shadow on the streets. Draco stuck his head around the corner then quickly ducked back behind the garbage bins that hid them from view. He waved the others down just in time; a large pack of Death Eaters walked by, wands at the ready.

"Why are there so many Death Eaters here?" Harry whispered.

Draco shook his head. "I'm not on the inside anymore, remember?"

Harry pulled his invisibility cloak on. "I'm going to go take a look around. Maybe I can figure out what's going on."

"Wait, Potter!" Draco hissed in the direction Harry's voice had come from, but he received no response.

They waited in a tense silence for a long time. Draco was just beginning to think Harry had been caught when he heard noises come from the opposite end of the alley. His head snapped in that direction. He motioned for Ron and Hermione to stay where they were, then crept in the direction of Borgin & Burkes' front door. When he snuck a peek around the corner, he had to stifle a gasp. Half a dozen Death Eaters were stationed around the entrance to the Dark artifacts store.

"This is a bloody waste of time," grumbled one of the Death Eaters. Draco immediately recognized the voice as belonging to Rodolphus Lestrange, his uncle.

"Why did the Dark Lord put us here?" whined another that Draco knew to be Antonin Dolohov.

"You know why!" snapped Rodolphus. "He doesn't want Potter to be able to sneak into Hogwarts using the vanishing cabinet here."

"I don't understand why he doesn't just destroy the damn cabinet." Dolohov said grumpily.

"You're an imbecile. What if he wants to use it again?" Rodolphus said.

"Yeah, well at least I'm not— " Dolohov stopped talking.

Draco wanted to sneak a peek around the corner, but knew he couldn't risk it with the Death Eaters so close.

"What do you want?" Rodolphus asked someone grouchily.

"I'm here to put up the Anti-Apparation wards the Dark Lord requested." Draco thought the voice belonged to Rabastan Lestrange.

"Get on with it then!" Rodolphus barked. "You were saying?" he directed at Dolohov.

"Never mind," Dolohov griped. "You know what else I don't get? Why the Dark Lord even thinks that Potter and his band of idiots would think to use the vanishing cabinet in the first place."

"You're even thicker than I thought," Rodolphus sneered. "Have you already forgotten how my wife messed up? The young Malfoy is with Potter now. He'll have suggested it."

"But why is it such a big deal if Potter gets into Hogwarts? Wouldn't that just make things easier for the Dark Lord?"

"You two are clearly not privy to the Dark Lord's reasons," Rabastan gloated. "But I'll let you in on a little secret. Potter broke into Gringotts to steal a Horcrux. The Dark Lord has another one hidden at Hogwarts, and he doesn't want it to be destroyed. That's why we're here. Now will you both just shut up?"

Draco moved back towards Ron and Hermione as quietly as he could.

"We have to get out of here," he whispered hurriedly.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"For starters, there're all these Death Eaters. But we also have no way into Borgin and Burkes now. They're putting up wards to keep us out." Draco looked around the cramped space. "Where's Potter?"

Hermione shrugged. "He hasn't come back yet."

"We may have to leave without him," Draco said. "I have a bad feeling that the Anti-Apparation ward isn't just going up around the store."

"We can't leave without Harry!" Ron whispered harshly. "He's the one that's going to end this bloody mess, we can't just leave him at the mercy of You-Know-Who."

"What mercy?" Draco asked darkly.

A loud crash sounded from the other end of the alley. Draco spun around, but he could only see a recently fallen garbage can still rolling around. Suddenly, Harry's head appeared several yards away. He was clearly running towards them, a look of panic on his face.

"We have to go!" Harry shouted.

"What happened?" Ron asked.

It turned out that Harry didn't need to answer—a swarm of Death Eaters came hurtling into the alley behind him. Harry was halfway through the alley, the Death Eaters closing in rapidly.

"Come on!" Draco yelled at Ron and Hermione.

He ran towards Harry, a hand outstretched. Hermione caught on first and darted after him, pulling Ron along with her. Draco's fingertips had barely brushed Harry's wrist when Hermione had a hold on his other hand; he attempted to Apparate them out of Knockturn Alley. Nothing happened. Harry looked at Draco in confusion, but Draco turned and fled out the other end of the alley, gesturing for everyone to follow along behind him.

A ray of green light blasted into the wall of the store in front of them. Draco dared to glance back at the Death Eaters chasing them. For the moment, they had the advantage; they were younger, faster. But it wouldn't last long. There were so few places to hide inside of Knockturn Alley, something that was surely not coincidental.

"We have to get out of Knockturn Alley," Draco panted to the others.

"How are we supposed to do that?" Harry gasped. "There's only one way out, and the Death Eaters are blocking it."

"We have to create a distraction," Hermione wheezed.

"We have to split up," Draco said.

They raced into another alley and pressed their backs to the side of the shop. Half a minute later the group of Death Eaters that had been chasing after them raced past their hiding place.

Between huge gulps of air, Draco said, "Of everyone, the Dark Lord will want Potter and me. Granger, you and Weasley wait here. Potter and I will lure the Death Eaters away from the entrance to Diagon Alley. When you see red sparks in the air, run to Diagon Alley. We'll meet you back at the cave."

Ron glared at him. "Why do you get to order everyone about?"

"There's no time to argue, Ron," Harry said impatiently. "Just keep Hermione safe. If we're not back by dark, go into the school without us."

"Harry." Hermione looked as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't continue.

"Don't worry. I've got his back," Draco said.

"Yeah, that's not at all reassuring," Ron spat.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "It'll have to be."

Without waiting for more arguments, Draco took off running back to the main street of Knockturn Alley. Harry followed closely behind him. Not entirely certain where the Death Eaters would be most likely to congregate, Draco headed in the direction of a rather shady pub his father had taken him to once. Halfway there, they ran past a dark alleyway full of Death Eaters.

"Hey! Over there!" The shout was followed by thundering footsteps.

Forming a plan quickly in his head, Draco raced into an alley that he knew had a dead end.

"Why did you come this way?" Harry shouted. "We're trapped!"

"Just get ready to send up sparks from your wand!" Draco said gruffly.

Draco silently cast a Shield Charm in front of them just as the Death Eaters reached the opposite end of the alley. He raised his wand in preparation, noting that Harry did the same. Harry watched him carefully. Then, just as the Death Eaters reached the halfway point, Draco waved his wand in a complex swirling pattern in front of him.

" _Iacta Augue!_ " he shouted, thrusting his wand forward.

A ball of fire erupted from the end of his wand and hurtled towards the oncoming Death Eaters. The few unfortunate people at the front of the group just had enough time to look frightened before the fireball exploded in their midst. Severed limbs and blood flew everywhere as the Death Eaters met an untimely demise.

"Now!" Draco yelled to Harry.

Harry silently shot up red sparks.

"Come on, we've got to distract the others."

Draco ran through the gory mess and turned towards the entrance to Diagon Alley, not noticing the figure hiding in the shadows near the pub. Just as he was about to turn a corner, a powerful spell hit him between the shoulder blades and sent him sprawling in the street. A blistering pain welled up where he had been struck and slowly began spreading across his back and shoulders. He didn't know what curse it was, but it hurt like hell. Behind him, he could hear Harry dueling with the unexpected Death Eater; a loud thud told Draco that Harry had gotten the best of him.

Gingerly, Draco heaved himself back to his feet, determinedly trying to ignore the pain that was making his eyesight go black around the edges. Harry came up behind him and draped something across his shoulders. When he turned to see what it was, Draco realized he had disappeared.

"Go find the others," Harry whispered urgently. "Hermione can help you." Then he ran off down a side street.

Completely invisible now, Draco quietly followed behind Harry, knowing that he would be screwed if he left Harry to fend for himself. Harry had barely made it ten yards when another dozen Death Eaters exited a store and surrounded him. Moving behind the edge of a building, Draco shot a hex at the back of one of the Death Eaters. He dropped to the ground. Then he ran across the street and fired another spell at a Death Eater, who also fell.

Vaguely, as Draco darted around the street taking out Death Eaters, he heard Harry mutter, " _Sectumsempra_ ," that curse he'd used last year in the lavatory. Five Death Eaters slumped to the street, blood blossoming through their robes. Draco smiled wickedly. It really was a great spell. Somehow, Harry managed to take down the last of the Death Eaters without being injured, and he raced off again.

A couple of times, just as Harry was about to be ambushed, Draco would shoot a spell at the oncoming Death Eater so Harry could keep moving. It took them nearly fifteen minutes, but the entrance to Diagon Alley was finally in sight. Harry put on a burst of speed and managed to get through without incident. Draco followed, his movements starting to slow from the curse he'd taken earlier.

They were only a few shops away from the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione and Ron appeared from inside the abandoned shop that Ron's twin brothers used to own—Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Draco thought it was called—and raced alongside Harry. Draco made sure they were protected, tossing random hexes and spells over his shoulder at the few Death Eaters that had continued to follow them. Then they were through the Leaky Cauldron and out onto the streets of Muggle London.

"Where's Draco?" Hermione gasped.

Harry looked around, bewildered. "He's not with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I sent him ahead because he got hit with a curse," Harry explained quickly.

"I'm right here," Draco said, yanking off the invisibility cloak. "Come on, we've got to get out of here."

Hermione took Draco's hand in one of hers and grabbed hold of Harry with the other. Harry made sure to have a grip on Ron and then Apparated them back to safety. They tumbled to the ground near the edge of the Black Lake where Draco had first seen Hermione's Patronus. Draco lay there, panting amongst the dirt and weeds. Hermione sat up, pushing Ron off of her torso. Harry got to his knees. After taking a few minutes to recover, Draco turned on Harry.

"What the hell did you do back there?" he bellowed.

"It wasn't my fault!" Harry yelled back defensively. "One of the Death Eaters had Moody's old glass eye, and he saw through my invisibility cloak."

"Well how did they get ahold of Moody's eye?" Draco demanded.

"Hell if I know!" Harry shouted.

"Wait a minute," Ron interrupted. "Are you saying You-Know-Who made one of his Death Eaters remove an eye so he could use Moody's magical one?"

Harry nodded, looking a bit green.

"Obviously You-Know-Who knows about your cloak, Harry," Hermione said somewhat hysterically. "Otherwise he wouldn't have sent the eye along with the Death Eaters. He was anticipating our arrival."

"Now what do we do?" Ron asked, dropping his head into his hands.

"We'll just have to find another way into the school," Hermione replied firmly.

"Hermione, I don't know how we're going to get access to the castle's pipes," Harry said, sounding defeated. "It's most likely that the pipes come up at Hogsmeade Station, and there's no way we'll be able to get there without being seen."

"Well, at least one of us could," Draco said. "The invisibility cloak would get someone there and back, but it would be dangerous to go alone."

"Not to mention stupid!" Hermione snapped. "We can't send one person in there! Not alone! It would be suicide!"

"But it would be worth it if that person managed to destroy the Horcruxes first." Draco folded his arms.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You're volunteering, aren't you?"

"I'm fine with that," Ron pitched in.

"Ronald!" Hermione spun to face him. "He's done nothing but help us since he rescued us from the manor. Be nice!"

"There must be a way we could all go," Harry said quietly. "I don't feel comfortable just sending in one person. Hermione's right: it's a death sentence."

They looked around at each other for a while, Draco wearing a scowl on his face, trying to mask the mounting pain he was feeling. Whatever curse he'd been hit with had completely engulfed his back and was spreading around his torso and down his legs. After a moment, Hermione's eyes brightened and she shot to her feet. She pulled out her small handbag and dug around in it until she extracted three blankets from its depths. Draco watched her curiously.

"We can cast Disillusionment Charms on the blankets," she said excitedly. "They'll work just as well as an invisibility cloak."

"Only at night," Draco said. "Don't forget that light catches any movement from something with the charm on it."

"Then we'll just have to sneak into the castle tonight, after it's dark." Hermione folded her arms, a triumphant smile on her face.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't look so smug. We haven't actually found out if it works yet."

"It will work," Hermione insisted. "I'll be casting the spell. I never fail."

"And I thought I was conceited," Draco muttered to himself.

Harry caught Draco's eye and began laughing. Draco smirked at him.

"Shut up, Harry!" Hermione said, smacking his arm.

"Sorry."

Hermione pulled out her wand and began casting the Disillusionment Charm on the blankets. Within a couple of minutes, the first blanket was a flickering lump of distorted light on the ground. Several more minutes and a complex wand maneuver or two, and the other two blankets were the same. Now all they had to do was wait for dark to see if the charm had worked.

"Now what?" Ron asked.

"Now we wait," Harry said dramatically.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm going for a walk."

He stood up slowly, brushed the dirt from his slacks, and headed along the lake in the direction of Hogwarts. Draco shoved his hands in his pockets, ignoring the pain in his back. Alone for the first time that day, he finally allowed himself to think about the night before. He still had a hard time believing that he had told her he liked her—and he'd been completely sober to boot! He had to figure out a way to take back what he had said without hurting her feelings. At least, without hurting them too much.

After several minutes of quiet contemplation, Draco heard rapid footsteps approaching from behind. He turned around to see Hermione headed his way. As she drew closer, he could see that she looked panicked. His earlier resolution to cut her off wavered at the sight.

"Hey, Granger, what's wrong?"

Hermione didn't respond right away. Instead, she flung herself at Draco, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. Surprised, Draco didn't know how to respond. He stood there with his arms slightly raised, only able to ignore the pain her touch brought because it was her. Slowly, he settled his arms around her shoulders.

"Hermione," Draco whispered.

She finally pulled away. "Sorry."

"What happened?"

"I should be asking you the same question!"

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, not unkindly.

Hermione scowled. "Harry already told us you were hit with a curse. Just now, he told me what he suspects it was."

Draco's eyes widened. "He did?"

"Yes. He thinks you were hit with the Sarkefahito Curse." When Draco looked at her in confusion, she continued. "It's a flesh-eating curse. It spreads rapidly, and if left untreated, will kill you. So take off your shirt." She sat on the ground, folding her legs beneath her.

Sighing, Draco sat beside Hermione, unbuttoning his dress shirt. "I don't know how bad it is."

Hermione gasped when she saw his back. "Oh my God," she cried. "Why didn't you let me help sooner?"

Draco moved to shrug, but winced at the movement. "Because I'm a moron, obviously," he answered sardonically.

He really tried not to look down at his bare chest, but the pull of curiosity was too strong. When he caught sight of what the curse had done to him, he shuddered. His chest was a sickening grey-green color; patches of skin had seemed to just melt away, leaving behind raw sores. Bemusedly, he thought he looked a bit like moldy Swiss cheese.

Hermione dug around in her bag and extracted a bottle of Dittany, along with a book on healing spells. She flipped through the book until she found what she was looking for. "Hold still. This will probably hurt."

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw her begin waving her wand. He was in no way prepared for the scorching pain that ran tongues of flame up and down his back. He just barely managed to hold back a scream, but couldn't help the growl that slipped out.

"Sorry," Hermione said softly. "It's the counter-curse."

After several excruciating minutes, she moved to face him and began the same process on his chest, which had been completely covered by the curse at that point. He was a bit surprised when Hermione moved to his arms to perform the counter-curse. He glanced at his right arm, horrified to see just how much the curse had spread.

"Er, Hermione?" Draco said uncomfortably. "I think it's spread to my legs as well."

Hermione's cheeks flamed, but she managed to keep any other signs of embarrassment hidden. "Well, then you'll just have to remove your trousers."

Silently, Draco slid out of his slacks. Upon a quick inspection, he determined that his boxers had to go, too. Now completely nude, he began feeling a bit awkward. "So…"

"Yes?" Hermione asked without looking up from her task.

"Don't you find it odd that you're staring at my crotch?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Draco! That's not what I'm doing!" Her cheeks blazed even brighter.

Draco smirked. "That's a shame." He had to do something to distract himself from the horrid pain of the counter-curse doing its work down there.

"Shut up and let me finish working!"

"And then what?" he asked suggestively.

"Stop it!" she screeched.

"Calm down," Draco said with a chuckle. "I'm just having a bit of fun."

Hermione sighed. "We'll have to get rid of your clothes. The curse will have stuck to the fabric, and wearing them now would essentially be just like being hit with the curse again. Now turn over so I can get the back of your legs."

"Oh?" he asked interestedly. "And am I just supposed to walk around completely exposed while we finish this ungodly quest?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course not. I'll make Harry lend you something."

Draco crinkled his nose as he rolled onto his stomach. "Do I have to wear his clothes?"

"It's either Harry's or Ron's."

"Fine." She was being a very literal pain in the ass at the moment. Stupid counter-curse.

After another few minutes, Hermione finally finished performing the counter-curse on Draco and moved on to healing his injured skin with the Dittany. That stung a little, but was nothing compared to the pain of the counter-curse. It didn't take her very long to finish.

"Now, you stay here and let the Dittany do its job while I go fetch you something to wear."

Sitting up, Draco grunted in acknowledgment. As Hermione walked away, Draco couldn't help picturing the look on her face when he'd completely stripped. The look that had stayed there the entire time she was working. He didn't know what that look meant, but he did know that it wasn't a look of disgust. He was confused. Had Hermione enjoyed seeing all of him? He began to wonder what she looked like completely nude, but promptly forced himself to stop that thought in its tracks. Now was certainly not the time to fantasize about what lay beneath her clothes.

Hermione was gone for a very long time, and when she finally did return, a stack of clothes in her arms, Draco noticed tears were streaking her face. Unthinking, he shot to his feet. Hermione's eyes moved to linger where they shouldn't for a moment before she met his gaze.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked.

"It's Ron," she sighed.

"What did he do this time?"

"Apparently he overheard us talking last night."

"What?" Draco nearly shouted.

"Yeah, and he's being irrationally jealous about it."

"Well that's just stupid!"

Hermione looked at him gravely. "It didn't help that I was over here with you, alone, while you were nude. Ron is being so insecure. I mean, I thought we'd worked that out when he destroyed the locket Horcrux, but apparently not."

"To be fair," Draco joked. "I am ridiculously good looking without any clothes on."

She ignored his attempt at humor and handed him the pile of clothes. "I don't know what to do about him anymore. I keep thinking that if I just give him one more chance, he'll be better, but he never rises to the challenge."

Draco rolled his eyes as he began dressing. "Of course he doesn't. Weasley is lazy. He always has been."

Hermione glared at him. "He's not that bad."

"Isn't he?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"No!"

"I'm not saying that he doesn't have his redeeming qualities. I'm just asking if those qualities are enough for you."

"I—of course! You don't understand." Hermione folded her arms obstinately.

Draco pulled the shirt over his head. "Maybe I don't. But you shouldn't just stay with him because you'll feel guilty if you don't."

"I don't know why I bothered talking to you," Hermione retorted. "I should have known better."

"Yeah, you should have. We've known each other long enough now for you to know I don't care about other people's problems," he lied.

"Then why are you even here?" she shouted. "If you don't care about other people's problems, what the hell are you still doing with us?"

"I don't know!" Draco yelled back. "Maybe I'll just take off on my own and leave the Golden Trio to their thankless task!"

"Maybe you should!"

"Fine! I will!"

"Fine!"

Draco stormed away without once looking back. He continued walking for several miles, all the while thinking that he should just Apparate out of there. It was all too clear now that none of the others really wanted him around. No matter what he did to help them, they would never be able to see him as a decent person. Maybe that was his own fault for treating them so badly for the last six years, but it was also their fault for refusing to move on. Forgive and forget, right?

So why couldn't Draco do the same thing?

Draco wandered around the edge of the lake for hours, halfway hoping that Harry, Ron, and Hermione would decide to leave him behind. That way he wouldn't have to make the decision himself. A part of him knew that he couldn't truly leave Hermione until the war was over and he could be sure she was safe. That same part of him realized, however, that if he stayed that close to her for that long, he would never be able to let her go. The other part of him just wanted things to go back to the way they were before: easy, uncomplicated, boring. But Draco knew he wouldn't win either way.

When the sun finally began to set, Draco started to walk back to where he had left the others. He dragged his feet, not really wanting to face any of them, least of all Hermione. After he had yelled at her, he had felt guilty instantly—much in the same way he had felt guilty every time he insulted her after third year. She was just so infuriating sometimes. It was a knee-jerk reaction for him to hurt her and push her away. After all, he'd been fighting his feelings for years. Why stop now?

When Draco was a few yards away from the others, he heard them talking in harried tones.

"Why would you say that to him, Hermione?" Harry said.

"I was angry. He stomped off before I could even apologize."

Draco was fairly certain he hadn't stomped.

"Who bloody cares where Malfoy is?" Ron said smugly. "We don't need his help."

"Maybe not," Harry replied patiently, "but if he wanders off alone, he will certainly be captured and killed. We can't let that happen."

"Why not?" Ron asked rudely. "It's not like we owe him or anything."

"Actually, Ron," Hermione said primly, "we do owe him. Our lives. We would all have been killed in Malfoy Manor if he hadn't interceded."

"You don't know that," Ron snapped. "Harry had been looking in his shard of mirror. He asked the person on the other end for help just before Malfoy came downstairs. For all we know, help could have been on the way."

"Maybe that would have worked for you," Hermione said. "But I would have been dead. Bellatrix was just about to use the Killing Curse on me when Malfoy stepped in. You should be more grateful."

"Would you two stop fighting?" Harry asked tiredly.

Before Draco was aware of making the decision, he stepped closer to the group. "Are we gonna do this thing or what?"

Harry's head turned toward him. "Actually…"

"What?" Draco snapped.

Harry sighed. "Hermione told me how badly you were affected by that curse, and I think we should wait for a little while before we try anything."

Draco scowled at him. "I'm perfectly fine."

Hermione stood up. "Personally, I'm exhausted. I'm going to go get some sleep."

"What?" Draco shouted at her retreating back. "You can't go to sleep! We have to get into Hogwarts!"

She ignored him.

"Let's give it a couple of days, all right? It'll be better for all of us if we take a break to recuperate from the last couple of weeks." Harry followed Hermione back to the cave.

After glaring heatedly at him, Ron did the same.

Draco flopped to the ground angrily, wondering more than ever what he was still doing with them. As he contemplated his situation, his mind began to wander, and he fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Four days later, Harry finally announced that he thought they were ready to enter Hogwarts. Additionally, Voldemort had left, so the coast was clear of at least one foe. Now that it was dark, Draco was huddled back beside the Black Lake with the others, preparing to find the pipes that would lead into the school. Hermione handed Draco a blanket without looking at him, gave one to Ron, and wrapped the third one around herself. Immediately, the only part of her that was visible was her head. Draco was impressed at the strength of her Disillusionment Charm, even though he had already known it was going to be brilliant.

"Should we just Apparate to the train station and start from there?" asked Harry.

Draco shrugged.

"Do you really think the pipes will surface at the train station, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Dunno. But it's the best guess we have."

"Then let's go." Hermione pulled a rope out of her bag and handed one end to Harry. "Tie this around your waist. It will make sure we don't lose each other when we're all invisible."

"Won't it look odd to have random bits of rope floating in midair?" Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The rope is enchanted. As soon as we're all covered, the rope will be just as invisible as we are."

"Oh." Ron took the spot right behind Harry and tied the rope around his own waist. "Good idea."

"Thanks," Hermione said sarcastically, looping the rope around herself. She handed the end of it to Draco.

Draco took it and tied it securely around himself. Then he draped the blanket he was carrying over his head, making sure his feet were covered. "Let's get on with it, then."

Without looking in his direction, Hermione held out her hand. Draco took it somewhat hesitantly. He didn't have much time to dwell on what was making him feel so uneasy before Harry had Apparated the four of them to Hogsmeade Station. The platform was abandoned, which slightly surprised Draco. He had figured there would be Death Eaters around to guard it and inspect any incoming trains. But he decided not to second guess their stroke of good luck.

Draco looked around, trying to spot anything that looked like it might lead underneath the Black Lake. There was nothing that stood out as far as he could see. He was just about to say as much when he was being tugged by the rope to the opposite side of the platform.

"What the hell is going on?" he whispered fiercely.

"There's something over here!" Ron said excitedly.

Draco stumbled along after the others, still not sure what they were supposed to be looking at. He didn't figure it out until the stars suddenly winked out above him. They were in some kind of musty tunnel now, and he realized that there had been a small patch of darkness that appeared denser than the rest as they approached their current location. Apparently the weasel had night vision. Harry pulled the hood of his invisibility cloak back. Hermione and Ron quickly followed suit. Sighing, Draco did the same.

"I think we should split up once we get inside the castle," Harry said quietly. "We'll be able to get in and out faster that way."

"Is that really the best idea, Potter?" Draco asked, eyebrows raised. "After all, there's safety in numbers."

"No, it's definitely better this way."

"Harry— " Hermione began.

"Just go with it, Hermione," Harry said. "Everything will be fine."

Hermione pursed her lips but nodded her assent.

"Keep yourselves covered. We don't know who or what we'll encounter in these pipes." Harry pulled the hood back up over his head.

"We ought to cast that charm that hides the sound of our footsteps," Draco said. "Pipes tend to echo, and we don't want to alert anyone to our presence by walking too loudly."

"Good idea," Hermione said. "You know how to do it, right Ron? Harry?"

They both grumbled at her in the affirmative. Draco smirked to himself, more pleased than he should have been that Hermione didn't doubt his own skill. He silently cast the charm on his feet and drew the blanket back over himself. Hermione and Ron both disappeared shortly after.

Harry moved forward, slowly drawing the others after him. Draco silently trudged along, wishing he had the sound of his feet splashing in the shallow water to keep him occupied. The pipe was absurdly dark. Draco reached out his hand and trailed it along the wall of the pipe next to him; it was damp, sticky, and covered in some kind of mildew. He wiped his hand on his pants. Gross.

The four of them walked for what felt like an eternity, the pipe remaining straight the entire time. Draco didn't notice it at first because it was so gradual, but he soon realized he could make out the faint outline of the pipe walls around him. If he squinted, he could see the texture of the mildew coating the cement structure. He was about to mention his revelation to the others when they arrived at an intersection in the pipe. It split off into two directions, slightly resembling a Y shape.

"Now what?" Hermione whispered.

"I suppose here is as good a place as any to split up," Harry suggested.

"Hold on," Draco said. "How do we even know if we're going in the right direction?"

"Well, the Chamber of Secrets was below the east side of the castle," Harry said. "So we just have to determine which pipe heads the most in that direction."

Draco pulled his wand out of his pocket and held it in his open palm. "Point me." His wand swiveled to his left, pointing north at a ninety-degree angle from where he stood. "Whoever is going to the chamber needs to go down the right tunnel."

"Hermione and I could—" Ron started.

"Oh, no. I'm not going anywhere with you," Hermione interrupted. "I'm still angry at you."

"Then Ron and I will head to the Room of Requirement," Harry said. "Hermione, you and Malfoy go to the chamber. Meet us in the corridor outside of the Room of Requirement when you're finished, and remember to stay hidden."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Anything else, boss?" He could imagine Harry's frown of disapproval.

"Just hurry," Harry said shortly.

Draco watched Hermione's wand appear in front of him and swipe through the air. A slackening of the rope around his waist indicated that she had severed it between herself and Ron.

"Good luck," she said quietly. "Be careful."

"Aren't I always?" Harry replied.

Hermione scoffed. "Hardly. But get a move on."

Draco allowed Hermione to take the lead as she headed down the pipe on the right. This segment was very windy, full of sharp turns and switchbacks, but never any extra branches of pipe. It was odd, he thought, that there would be so few pipes in this area, but perhaps the school had come up with better ways to run water and sewage than through the ancient plumbing.

It wasn't long before the lighting in this pipe began to change, too. It became lighter, suffused with a greenish glow. And suddenly Hermione was pulling Draco out of the pipe and into a smelly stone corridor. After a few more feet and a sharp right turn, they entered a cavern. On Draco's right, carved into the wall was a strange depiction of Salazar Slytherin's head. The mouth was wide open, revealing a hole that had a dark, foreboding presence. Laying on the ground in front of Slytherin's head was the mangled skeleton of a giant snake, the skin long since sunken and dried out.

"Holy shit," Draco whispered. "The Chamber of Secrets."


	7. A Night With Dumbledore's Army

Chapter 7: A Night With Dumbledore's Army

* * *

"We don't have time to stand around gawking," Hermione said, pulling her blanket off and untying the rope around her waist.

"Did you bring Hufflepuff's cup with you?" Draco asked, ignoring her rude comment and removing his blanket.

"Yes." She pulled it out of her bag. For the first time since their argument earlier that week, Hermione looked at him. "Do you want to have the honor of destroying it? After all, we might not have it if not for you."

Draco shrugged. "I suppose."

Hermione moved toward the basilisk's skeleton somewhat warily. "The fangs are poisonous," she said unnecessarily.

Draco came up behind her. "Do you want me to grab them?"

She nodded silently.

"Find something you can transfigure to hold the extra fangs," he said. "Then we can store them in your bag without worrying about pricking ourselves later."

She nodded again and moved away from the skeleton, presumably searching for something usable.

Draco plucked four small fangs from the basilisk's distorted mouth. He held them carefully in his hand while he waited for Hermione to return. She soon approached, holding a sizable rock in each hand. She set them both on the cavern floor by Draco's feet and waved her wand at them, transfiguring one into a small plastic container and the other into a matching lid. Draco dropped three of the fangs into the container.

"I need the cup," he said quietly.

"You should know," Hermione said just as softly, "that the Horcrux inside of the cup will fight back. They aren't all that easy to destroy."

Draco nodded. He held out his hand and waited for Hermione to give him the cup. She dug around in her bag briefly, and then the golden cup was glittering oddly in the greenish light. Draco set it on the ground and knelt beside it. He raised the remaining basilisk fang high above his head and brought it, whistling through the air, to pierce the engraved H on the side of the cup.

Almost instantly a black, smoke-like substance began pouring from the hole Draco had made in the cup. Draco stood up and backed away, watching apprehensively as the black smoke formed a wall in front of him. It reached from floor to ceiling. Then the wall began snaking around him. Soon he was trapped in a tube of the terrifying smoke.

"Draco!" Hermione screamed.

He tried to answer, but was unable to utter a word; the air inside the tube was thick, suffocating him. From the depths of the black walls, images began assaulting him: his father, holding his coiled belt in his hands, ready to beat him; his mother, dead at his feet; Voldemort instructing him to kill Dumbledore; himself following through with the command. It was horrible, his past taunting him, but Draco shut his eyes and held his fists against them, determined to not let the Horcrux beat him. When he opened his eyes again, the haunting images had disappeared. He took a deep breath, certain that it was over.

But then even worse things began to appear. Standing directly in front of him was an image of himself as a child. The blonde boy blinked up at him innocently for a moment, then began cowering in fear. Draco reached out a hand toward the boy, and the boy recoiled further. He suddenly realized what he was seeing—the child he had been would be horrified by the man he had become. Draco had become his own worst fear. He had become his father. He cried out in shame. The distressing vision disappeared, only to be replaced by another one just as terrible. Draco fell to his knees as he watched Hermione being tortured by Bellatrix again; only, this time, he didn't intercede, and she died an extremely painful death.

Tears ran down his cheeks. He felt as though someone had punched a hole through his chest, and he couldn't breathe. Looking at the lifeless version of Hermione in front of him, Draco felt something inside snap. He jerked to his feet, and, with a roar of fury, plunged the basilisk fang into the dense smoke. A high-pitched scream echoed through the chamber. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the black substance was gone, taking the basilisk fang with it. He stood alone, his hand clenched around nothing. Draco fell to his knees again, the flood of emotions overwhelming him completely. His tears fell unchecked.

"Draco!" Hermione rushed over and knelt in front of him. "Are you all right?"

Draco refused to believe his ears. He had watched her die. Hermione couldn't be here in front of him. He locked eyes with her, sure that he was staring at a ghost.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely.

"For what?" she asked softly.

"I didn't save you…I let you die. I'm so sorry." Draco covered his face with his hands, holding back a sob. "It's all my fault."

When Hermione pulled his hands away from his face, he stared at her uncomprehending. "I'm not dead," she said firmly. "I'm right here."

Draco shook his head. "No. Not real."

"I'm real," she insisted. "Here." She placed one of his hands over her heart.

Draco's own heart stuttered when he felt her heartbeat against his palm. His breathing quickened. And then he was pulling her towards him, burying his face in her hair. Hermione lightly rubbed circles on his back. Draco pulled back and placed his hands on either side of her face. Before he could second guess himself, he leaned forward and kissed her. It started out slow, uncertain, gentle. But when Hermione's lips began responding to his, he lost all reservation. He kissed her desperately, passionately. He poured all of his grief and regret into that kiss, willing her to know how much he wished things were different.

Hermione's arms wound around his neck, and she clutched fistfuls of his shirt in her hands, keeping him close. Draco moved his hands to rest against her back. She was real, she was here. Best of all, she wasn't pushing him away. Whatever was going on between them, she clearly still felt something for him. He would take what he could get.

Several long, ardent minutes later, Hermione pulled away, gasping for air. Draco gently stroked her cheek, carefully watching her face for her reaction. Her face was flushed, her lips slightly swollen. Several emotions passed through her eyes, but, to Draco's relief, he didn't find regret among them. She was confused, that much was obvious, but she wasn't repentant. After a final, chaste kiss, Draco got to his feet, pulling her with him.

Almost robotically, Hermione gathered the blankets and enchanted rope. Then she walked out of the cavern and into a long tunnel overflowing with rotting snake skins, Draco following close behind her. They traversed the corridor silently, at one point passing by what must have once been a cave-in. A thick vertical pipe waited at the end of the tunnel. Draco assumed it was the way out.

"How do we get up there?" he asked, pointing.

"In second year, Harry had Fawkes. I'm not sure how we'll do it." Hermione scrutinized the pipe.

"What if we were to make some kind of hand and footholds? Then we'd be able to climb up." Draco twirled his wand in his hand, contemplating.

"That could work," she mused. "I suppose we could also transfigure something into a ladder."

Draco looked around them at the rocks, debris, and mouse skeletons littering the ground. "What would we use? There's nothing here that even remotely resembles a ladder."

"What if we just transfigure the pipe itself into a staircase?"

"It would certainly be worth a try."

Hermione frowned. "I don't know if I'll be able to do it alone. It's a rather difficult job."

"Good thing the two smartest students in our year are here, then." Draco smirked at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, it is."

"On the count of three?"

"Or we could just do it," she said mockingly.

"All right then," Draco said, still smirking.

They both waved their wands at the pipe, and it morphed from a slippery tube into a slippery staircase. Draco took Hermione's hand and carefully ascended the stairs, but at the top, there was something blocking their exit. He released her hand and shoved against the barrier. It slowly shifted until a dim light lifted the greenish darkness they'd been in. Draco climbed out and held out his hand to help Hermione. Once they were both back on solid ground, he took a look at his surroundings.

"Myrtle?" he asked the ghost floating near a row of toilets.

"Hello, Draco," she said coquettishly. "It's been a while."

Draco's face turned red. "Er, yeah, it has."

"You know Myrtle?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"From last year," Draco mumbled.

"Oh, yes," Myrtle said. "He talked a lot about — "

"Okay, Myrtle, that's enough!" Draco interrupted.

Hermione laughed. "Don't be embarrassed. Myrtle and I go way back."

"How many years now? Five?" Myrtle started counting on her fingers.

"That sounds about right."

Draco frowned. "What were you doing in here during second year?"

"Er, nothing." Hermione quickly looked away.

"I know what they were doing," Myrtle offered.

"They? Were Potter and Weasley here, too?"

Myrtle sighed happily. "Harry. Yes, they were all here quite often for a month or so right around Christmas."

Draco turned to look at Hermione. "Christmas of second year? What were you doing?"

Hermione groaned. "Nothing!"

"They were brewing a potion," Myrtle whispered conspiratorially.

Draco was quiet as he puzzled over the information he had just learned. Then things started clicking into place. A month spent brewing a potion in secret. Crabbe and Goyle acting bizarrely one evening, quizzing him about the Heir of Slytherin. And suddenly he knew why that day had never sat right with him.

"It was you!" he exclaimed.

"I don't know what you mean," Hermione sputtered.

"Oh, really? So you didn't brew Polyjuice Potion in here during second year and send Potter and Weasley looking like Crabbe and Goyle to interrogate me?" Draco folded his arms.

Hermione finally turned and looked at him, her face red with shame. "I'm sorry. They were just so certain, and I let them convince me. It was stupid."

"Yeah, it was stupid. But it was also remarkable. You successfully brewed one of the most difficult potions when you were twelve. Impressive." Draco gave her a once over. "I really should've given you more credit back then."

Hermione flushed with pleasure. "I was thirteen," she whispered.

Without another word, Draco reached out and took the rope from Hermione. He tied it around his waist, then held out the other end for her to take. She took it from him, and he accepted the blanket she offered. Once they were concealed, Hermione led the way out of the bathroom.

She made sure to stay close to the walls where they would be more hidden in shadows. Luckily, it was late, and most of the castle was in darkness. Slowly, carefully, they made their way up to the seventh floor. When they were on the spiral staircase near the fourth floor, voices began echoing down toward them. Footsteps clattered loudly on the stone steps. Quickly, Draco and Hermione stepped into a window alcove, narrowly avoiding being caught by Alecto and Amycus Carrow.

"…wish we could delegate patrols to the other professors," Amycus complained.

"Understandable," Alecto answered. "But none of the others are trustworthy."

"Severus is."

"But he's busy being the headmaster."

"Yeah, yeah…"

Their voices faded as they descended farther. Draco let out a quiet sigh of relief, and Hermione continued moving up the stairs. They reached the seventh floor without further incident. When they reached the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy, they huddled in the shadows, waiting for Harry and Ron to appear.

Ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed without a sign of them. Even Draco found himself beginning to worry. He and Hermione had been in the Chamber of Secrets for quite a while. What could possibly be taking the others so long?

"Draco, something's wrong," Hermione whispered.

"Can we get in while they're still inside?" he asked.

"I don't know, but we have to try."

They immediately began pacing back and forth in front of the tapestry, willing the Room of Requirement to appear, specifically the room where all sorts of junk was stored. The door appeared on the wall out of nowhere. Hermione rushed forward and tugged it open. She sighed with relief, and Draco peered into the room over her shoulder. They had done it; towering piles of books, broken furniture, damaged suits of armor, and various other knick knacks stretched as far as Draco could see in any direction. Hermione pulled him inside and shut the door, then quickly pulled off her blanket and untied the rope from her waist.

"Harry? Ron?" she shouted, running off through the maze of junk.

"Hermione, wait!" Draco called, hurriedly dropping his blanket and the rope to the ground. He ran after her. "Wait!"

Hermione weaved her way through an aisle of teetering stacks of books and rusty cauldrons. As Draco followed her, one particularly tall pile of cauldrons tilted dangerously in his direction. He quickly darted past before it could topple and crush him. Hermione pushed her way through a rack of ragged cloaks and sets of robes, nearly causing an avalanche of old socks to fall on her.

"Hermione, slow down!" Draco yelled. He put on a burst of speed and grabbed her arm, then pulled her to a stop. "Calm down," he instructed. "I know where the Vanishing Cabinet is. We should check there first."

Breathing heavily, Hermione nodded.

"It's going to be okay." Draco pulled her into a hug before taking her hand and walking in the direction of the cabinet.

"Are we close?" Hermione asked.

Draco nodded. "Yes. It's against the far wall in the corner."

They reached the end of the row and turned left, heading for the corner of the room. Harry and Ron were a dozen yards ahead of them, frantically searching through piles of junk and broken pieces of furniture.

"Harry! Ron!" Hermione broke free from Draco and ran to them. "What's taking so long?"

Harry looked up at her, panicked. "We can't find the diadem! It isn't here!"

Hermione frowned. "Did you try summoning it?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course we did. But you can't summon a Horcrux, remember?"

"Right." Hermione tapped her chin. "And you're sure it's not in the cabinet?"

"How could it be in the cabinet?" Draco asked, coming up behind her. "It's not broken anymore, so anything put inside of it would appear in Borgin and Burkes."

"Harry, could you try to connect with You-Know-Who to see if you can find where it is?"

"I don't know if that'll work," Harry said quietly. "I think our only choice is to keep searching in here."

"Maybe we could ask the Room of Requirement to provide us a safe place to sleep tonight, and we can resume our search in the morning," Draco suggested.

"Yes! That's a great idea!" Hermione chirped. "Maybe we could find some old members of the DA to help us!"

Harry smiled. "Okay. Let's do it."

The four of them trooped back to the door. They connected with each other with the enchanted ropes and covered themselves, then exited the room. Back out in the hallway, Draco waited beside Hermione as, he assumed, Harry and Ron paced back and forth to summon the safe hiding place. A new door popped into place on the wall, and Harry's hand reached out from beneath his invisibility cloak to pull it open.

A rather loud rumble of voices greeted them. When they stepped inside and shut the door, the voices stopped. Nearly one hundred heads turned in their direction. Draco took the time to examine their surroundings. Hammocks were strung along every wall and available surface. Against one wall, a partitioned area functioned as, it looked like, the loo. On the opposite wall was a long counter and a sink—the kitchen. After the initial surprise of the door opening and closing on its own, Neville Longbottom bravely stepped forward.

"Who's there?" he asked confidently.

Harry pulled off his cloak, and Ron did the same. A gasp could be heard throughout the crowd.

"Harry!" Draco watched as the youngest Weasley ran forward and threw herself into Harry's arms.

"Ginny!"

"What are you doing here?" Neville asked. "Where's Hermione?"

Hermione uncovered herself. "Right here, Neville."

"Thank God!" Neville hurried over and enveloped Hermione in a hug. "We heard rumors that you three had been captured. We thought you were dead."

"About that," Hermione said hesitantly. "We had a bit of help escaping."

Damn. Draco knew where this was headed. He supposed it was too much to hope that he could remain hidden while they were there.

"You did? Who helped you?"

From among the crowd, two people pushed to the front. Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas.

"He helped us, too," Luna said softly.

"It's true," Dean pitched in. "So everyone be kind."

"Well, who was it?" a voice called from the back.

"It was..." Hermione hesitated. "It was Draco Malfoy." Then she pulled the blanket away from him.

Standing there, exposed to the people in the room, Draco felt more like he was naked now than he had with Hermione when she was healing his wounds by the lake. He had no idea how to react, so he just scowled at his shoes. That felt normal.

"Malfoy?" someone shouted angrily. "As if!"

"Are you trying to say he's on our side?" another person asked incredulously.

Harry nodded, finally pulling away from Ginny. "Guys, he saved our lives. And two others at the same time. Since then, he's been helping us. He's on our side, I promise."

Most people in the room looked angry, skeptical, and suspicious. The only people who took Harry's words at face value were Neville, the Patil twins, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, and Seamus Finnegan. Draco surprised himself by remembering all of their names. And then he noticed one glaring fact. Of all the bright colors in the room, there was a distinct lack of green and silver. There wasn't a single Slytherin in the room besides himself.

Awkward.

"What are you guys even doing here?" Neville finally asked.

"We were, um, looking for…something important…" Harry stuttered. "Look, I can't exactly give you the details. I'm sorry. But I can tell you that what we've been doing is going to help us defeat You-Know-Who."

Another gasp made its way around the room.

"D'you guys need a place to stay tonight?" Neville asked, ever the gracious host.

"That would be really, really great, Neville," Hermione said, beaming.

"Great!" Ginny said. "We can set up some extra hammocks over in the corner for you."

She took Harry's hand and led him into the far left corner. Hermione, after quickly stuffing the blankets, ropes, and invisibility cloak into her bag, ran after them. Ron and Draco followed. There was a small section of the room at the back that was bare. Ginny pulled out her wand and began conjuring hammocks, stringing them from a hook in the corner to wooden poles stationed at random intervals around the room.

Hermione dropped her bag onto one of the hammocks. When Ginny was finished with the hammocks, she stuck her wand into her back pocket and wrapped her arms around Harry once more. Barely one second had passed before she was pressing her lips to his. It took even less time for the kiss to become something more.

"Er, Harry? That's my sister," Ron said uncomfortably.

Draco determinedly stared at the wall opposite them.

"Maybe we should just leave them alone," Hermione suggested.

"But— " Ron argued.

"Come on, Ronald." Hermione took his hand and dragged him away.

Glancing back at the couple in the corner, Draco shuddered and made his way back toward the front of the large room. Everyone he passed watched him distrustfully. He really just wanted to be hiding beneath his blanket again, invisible to the world. But he had left his blanket back in Hermione's bag, and he was definitely not venturing back to where Potter was tonguing his girlfriend. Or worse.

Of course, he supposed he was being hypocritical. He had, after all, been doing just that with Hermione back in the Chamber of Secrets. Yet it was one thing to actually be doing it as opposed to watching it. Draco knew which he'd prefer. He wondered what Hermione thought about the moment they'd shared earlier. He would have continued if they hadn't been on a deadline. And now that they weren't on a tight schedule, at least for a few hours, he wondered if she'd want to do it again. He wondered about a lot of things.

"Hey."

Draco turned around to find Hermione behind him, holding out a plate full of food.

"You should eat something," she said kindly. "We haven't eaten this good in weeks."

He took it gratefully. "Thanks. Have you already eaten?"

She nodded. "Just finished."

"Oh."

"Well, see you later." Without a backward glance, Hermione walked away.

Draco walked over to the wall and sat down with his back against it. He stared at the food in front of him. He had been hungry when the food was presented to him, but now… Now he wanted someone to share it with. Of course, he would never admit it out loud, but Draco had secretly hoped that things had changed between him and Hermione—for the better. But now he wasn't so sure. He picked at the grapes and chicken on his plate, not very hungry at all anymore.

Nobody approached him. They were either too angry or too afraid. Draco didn't know whether he liked it that way or not. Probably not. After an hour or so had passed, he waved his wand to get rid of his uneaten food and made his way back to the corner where Ginny had strung the new hammocks. Luckily, Harry and Ginny were not there. Draco picked the hammock next to Hermione's (and closest to the wall) and lay down. Surprisingly, he drifted off to sleep almost instantly. He was briefly awoken when someone in the room flashed the lights and shouted that it was time for bed. He fell asleep again before the clamor of people getting ready for bed had even started.

* * *

Draco fell to the hard stone floor. Bewildered, he looked around before discovering that he had rolled out of his hammock. Likely from another nightmare, though he didn't remember having one. Completely wide awake, he thought maybe he'd read through one of the hundreds of books Hermione must have brought with her. He quietly moved around to the other side of her hammock, looking for her bag. Draco found it dangling from her left wrist, and carefully made to open it.

"What are you doing?"

He looked up at Hermione and found her bright eyes watching him. "Sorry," he whispered. "I didn't know you were awake. I was just going to read a book or something."

"You still can, if you want." She sat up and unzipped her bag. "What would you like?"

Draco paused. "Are you going back to sleep?"

Hermione shook her head. "Probably not."

"Do you want to talk, then?" he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

She shrugged. "Okay. But we should find somewhere that won't disturb the others."

He nodded. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Neville told me about a secret passage that leads in here from the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade. We could go in that tunnel, if you want." Hermione stood up.

"Sure. Where is it?"

She began walking back in the direction of the door. "It's behind the painting."

"Which painting?" Draco asked.

Hermione chuckled. "The only painting in the room. They needed the rest of the wall space for hammocks."

"Got it."

They stayed silent until they'd pulled the painting away from the wall and climbed into the tunnel. After Hermione closed it behind them, she cast a Silencing Charm around them, just in case. Then she lit her wand.

"Apparently the owner of the Hog's Head is Dumbledore's younger brother," Hermione said at a normal volume.

"I didn't even know he had a brother," Draco replied, sitting down with his back to the wall.

"I didn't know until late last year, either," she said, moving to sit next to him. "It turns out that the book Rita Skeeter wrote about him actually had facts in it. There was very little embellishment."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know the woman was capable of telling the truth."

"It honestly doesn't read like truth, but it is. Bathilda Bagshot told us." Hermione frowned.

"Didn't she write _A History of Magic_?"

"Yes, she did. And she grew up with Dumbledore; they were neighbors. It was really terrible to realize that everything in that book was true, though. It felt like we'd never really known Dumbledore at all."

"Well, did anyone really know him?" Draco asked, shrugging. "He always seemed so secretive to me."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. But the person he was in the book wasn't the man we knew in school."

"That makes sense." Draco looked at her. She was frowning, and he didn't think it had anything to do with Dumbledore. "What're you thinking?"

She stared at her hands. "What happened in the Chamber earlier?" she finally asked.

Draco froze. "What do you mean?"

"All of it, I guess."

"You told me the Horcrux would fight back. And it did." He shrugged.

"Did it show you something? I…I heard you screaming…" Hermione finally looked him in the eye.

Draco hesitated. He wasn't used to telling anyone the things he feared, and he didn't know if she would understand. "Why do you want to know?" he asked, not unkindly.

She shrugged. "I don't know."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I do know. But I don't know if I want to tell you."

"You can tell me anything," he whispered.

"Well, I…I suppose I want to know what you saw because— " She paused.

"Because?"

"Because I still care. About you, I mean." Hermione looked at her lap, her face reddening in embarrassment.

Draco briefly hesitated before taking her hand. Without looking at her, he said, "I saw a lot of things. Most of them involved my father, several of them contained the Dark Lord and Dumbledore. Horrible memories that have haunted me for a long time. Things like that." He sighed deeply. "I saw myself as a child, cowering in fear of myself from now, and I realized that I had become my father. It was awful."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "You're not your father. He would never do the things you've done to help us. He would never defy You-Know-Who. But you have."

He took a deep breath. "The worst thing the Horcrux showed me, though, was you. Dead by Bellatrix's hand. I didn't stop her." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Is that why you didn't think I was real afterward?" she asked gently.

Draco nodded. "It all felt so real, and I was so sure that you were dead. I— " He stopped, unable to talk past the lump in his throat.

Hermione placed a hand on his cheek. "A Horcrux shows you what you fear the most. You really fear me dying?"

He gulped and nodded silently.

Slowly, almost shyly, Hermione closed the minute distance between them and kissed Draco softly. He carefully pulled her closer, winding his fingers through her hair. Suddenly, she was clutching at his back, holding fistfuls of his shirt almost desperately. The kiss became more urgent. Draco grazed her bottom lip with his teeth, making her shiver. Soon their tongues were entwined, and the tunnel was too small, too hot. Within seconds Draco's shirt was tossed to the side. Hermione ran her hands over his chest curiously, exploring every inch of his exposed skin.

And then she was pushing him away, gasping for air. She stared at him for a long time, bewildered. Draco watched her as hundreds of emotions seemed to cross her face. He felt disappointment well up in his gut, certain now that Hermione regretted what she'd started.

"What are we doing?" she finally whispered.

Draco stayed quiet.

"We can't—we shouldn't…"

"Why not?" he asked lowly.

Hermione stared at him. "Because…because of Ron?" She said it uncertainly, as if it were a question instead of a statement.

"I thought you said you two weren't together," Draco said carefully, avoiding her gaze as he pulled his shirt back on.

"We're not," she said, "but that doesn't mean we won't be."

Draco fought to keep his voice calm as anger bubbled below the surface. "Exactly how long do you plan on waiting for him to make his move?"

She gulped. "I don't know. I assumed that after the war— "

"Really? That's your brilliant plan? To wait until after the war? What if it doesn't end for another ten years? What then?" he asked gruffly.

"Well, I— "

Draco took her hands in his. "Don't you want to live? We don't know how much time is left for any of us. Why waste it waiting?"

Hermione closed her eyes. "I don't want to wait," she whispered.

"Then don't."

"I just—I need a little bit of time to sort things out with Ron. Can you give me a couple of days?" She looked at him, searching his eyes desperately.

Draco already knew what his answer would be. He would give her anything she asked for, even if it was for him to leave. "Of course I can," he said gently. He watched her silently, thinking just how much he cared about her and how long he would spend waiting for her. Because even if she didn't choose him, he knew he'd spend the rest of his life waiting.


	8. The Return of Severus Snape

Chapter Eight: The Return of Severus Snape

* * *

"I need to talk to you."

Draco sat up in his hammock and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Harry was crouched in between him and Hermione, his eyes darting back and forth between them nervously. Something had happened.

"What is it, Potter?" he asked.

"C'mon, Ron's waiting. I'll tell you all together." Harry stood up and marched away.

Hermione scrambled out of her hammock and stumbled after him, Draco following in her wake. They found themselves back in the tunnel behind the portrait. Harry cast a Silencing Charm before he turned around.

"What's going on, Harry?" Hermione asked, yawning.

"I—I had another vision." He began pacing back and forth in the cramped space.

"About what?" Ron asked cautiously.

"The diadem."

Draco looked at Hermione, pretty sure he knew what she was thinking. "Could it be a trick?" he asked, voicing Hermione's concern. She tossed him a grateful glance.

Harry took a deep breath. "I really don't think it is. I've had a lot of time to relive fifth year; it took some time, but I realized there was something odd about the vision that tricked us into going to the Ministry. It had a…a hazy feeling to it, like I was seeing it all happen through a light fog. The vision from last night was crystal clear."

"What did you see?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Nothing too good, I'm afraid," he replied. "The diadem's not here. You-Know-Who took it with him when he left two days ago. I'm not sure where it is now, but it hasn't left his side since."

Ron frowned. "Did you just see that, or did you see your surroundings like before?"

"No, it was like normal. I didn't recognize the place, though." Harry ran his hands through his already disheveled hair.

"Start from the beginning," Hermione suggested. "Tell us everything you remember."

"All right. So, the vision started in this tiny, disgusting Muggle town by a river. I wound up on a street called Spinner's End, at the very last house on the row. And then I was inside the house. That was where it got weird. The sitting room was just as dingy as the rest of the town. It was dark, the wallpaper was peeling, it was only lit by candles. There was a ratty old sofa and a moldy armchair. Then this bookcase swung outward—it was a hidden door—and then I was going up a flight of stairs. The rest of the house was shiny, and new, and…well—" He glanced apologetically at Draco. "—very Malfoy Manor."

As Harry had been talking, Draco had been feeling more and more uneasy. Everything about his description sounded too familiar, and he was pretty sure he knew the place.

"Go on," Ron prompted.

"I entered a ballroom, and I saw Nagini there, in that magic bubble Malfoy told us about, and there was a glass case next to a window. The diadem was inside of it, resting on a cushion. There were so many protective wards around it that I could practically see the magic in the air." He finished his description, then slumped to the floor of the tunnel with his back against the portrait.

"None of that sounds familiar," Hermione mused. "Did you have any other clues about where that house was?"

Harry shook his head. "That was it. I didn't see any other people to indicate who lived there, other than You-Know-Who, obviously."

"Then how are we supposed to find the bloody Horcrux?" Ron asked grumpily.

Draco cleared his throat. "I really hate being the one with all the answers lately, but I know the place you're talking about." He didn't know anything about the rooms behind the hidden staircase, though.

"And?" Harry asked impatiently.

"It's Snape's house."

Ron's eyes grew wide. "How the bloody hell are we supposed to get in there?"

"He's right, we're doomed," Hermione muttered. "His place is bound to have thousands of spells around it to keep people out, especially now that You-Know-Who is there."

"I'm really starting to feel like the mastermind behind this whole operation," Draco grumbled. "I have another idea."

Ron scowled at him. "No way. I'm not going along with another one of your stupid ideas. I've escaped death enough for one lifetime, thank you."

Draco calmly raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't have to come along. You could stay here, with your friends, hiding underneath the Dark Lord's nose. I'm perfectly fine with that."

"You know what, Malfoy— "

"Stop it!" Hermione said shrilly. "Regardless of who comes up with the idea, we at least need a place to start from!"

"She's right. Now, Malfoy, what was your idea?" Harry pitched in.

"First, I have a question. Meeting up with your old friends here got me thinking. How did you guys communicate about your meetings during fifth year?"

Hermione smiled proudly. "Galleons enchanted with a Protean Charm."

"That's actually really brilliant," he said, tossing a small smile in her direction. "I think we should feed the Dark Lord false information about our location. It's got to be something good enough that he will leave the house himself. Then, once the house is empty, we go in and get the diadem. We'd be gone before anyone knew what had happened."

"But Snape's bound to have put up Anti-Apparation wards around his house. How would we even get close enough to get inside the house before they discovered we'd given them a false lead?" Harry asked.

"What about a Portkey?" Ron asked. "They're untraceable and can get past most wards that prevent entry."

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. Apparently the weasel wasn't stupid _all_ of the time.

"Yes, Ron! That's a great idea!" Hermione said.

"Okay, so we've got the transportation part settled. But how will we get the fake lead to You-Know-Who?" Harry asked.

"That'll be a bit trickier," Draco said. "But I think we should come up with another pair of galleons that mimic the ones you made in fifth year. One of us would have to sneak into Snape's office and leave one of the galleons with an anonymous note that it was found in someone's belongings. Longbottom's, maybe. I heard he's been giving the Death Eaters here a run for their money. If they thought he had left something like that lying around, I think they'd take the bait. Then we would just have to send the message when we know Snape is in his office. He'd be certain to tell the Dark Lord right away."

"I actually think that might work," Harry said slowly. "But I'm worried that they might send scouts ahead of time or something, and if there's no sign of us, You-Know-Who won't show up."

Hermione frowned. "You're right. He wouldn't just rush off without double checking his information, whether it came from Snape or not."

"So what do we do?" Ron asked.

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it? We have to split up again." Hermione's eyes were bright with the excitement of another adventure.

"I think," Draco said, "that I should be one of the people to be in the fake location. I know the kinds of things the Death Eaters will look for, so I'll be able to leave the right breadcrumbs. Plus, I learned this really handy spell that can mimic human presence. I could make it appear as if all four of us are there, even though only two would be."

"Okay. If you're sure, Malfoy," Harry said. "I know I've got to be one of the ones that goes after the Horcrux. I'm sort of…connected to them. That just leaves the decision of who you go with." He gestured at Ron and Hermione.

"I'm not going anywhere with Malfoy," Ron spat.

"Well, it's settled then," Draco said with a sneer. "Granger'll come with me."

"I didn't say that, either!" Ron yelled. "Why can't you just go alone and do that mimicking spell for three extra people instead of two?"

"I suppose I could," Draco conceded. "It would be good for you two to have her brains accessible while you try to break through the cabinet's wards."

"I can make my own decisions," Hermione said indignantly. "And I'm not going to send Draco into the manticore's lair without any backup."

Draco smirked at her. "Good analogy, Granger. Very accurate."

"All right," Harry said. "We've paired off again. But it may help to know ahead of time what wards might be on that cabinet." He looked pointedly at Draco.

"Right. I could make a list of spells I think might be involved. I don't know all of their counter-spells, but Granger could probably help with that." Draco scratched the back of his neck. "I could have the list ready…tonight, maybe?"

"Thank you," Harry said emphatically.

"I'll take care of making the fake galleon," Hermione said softy.

Ron had remained scowling since Hermione decided to accompany Draco on their suicide mission. When Draco caught his eye, Ron narrowed his eyes further, clearly agitated about something. Well, more agitated than usual.

"Something wrong, Weasley?" Draco asked.

"I need to talk to Hermione. Alone," he growled.

Harry stood up. "All right. Let's meet up by the hammocks in another hour to check on progress." He pushed his way out of the tunnel.

Draco followed him, but stopped once the portrait had swung closed. He didn't really care how rude it was, but he was curious about what had Ron so upset. He had to know what was going on in that tunnel. He hadn't told the others, but he had been taught many useful spells over the last year. One of them allowed the caster to hear what was going on behind a closed door, even if there was a Silencing Charm up. Without hesitation, he wordlessly cast the spell and leaned up against the wall near the portrait.

"…understand why you have to always go off with him!" Ron was yelling.

"I don't always go off with him, Ronald!" Hermione responded irately.

"I'm not going to let you go on that suicide mission with him!"

"It's not up to you!"

"It should be!"

Draco heard Hermione growl in frustration. "You're insufferable! I get to make my own decisions, and I'm going to help him! He's saved my life twice now. I can't just let him go alone like that; he'll be killed!"

"He's still Malfoy!" Ron shouted. "I don't really care if he suddenly has a conscience. He's been a prat for the last six years, and, despite what you may think, he's still the same! I hate him! I will always hate him!"

"Are you quite finished?" Hermione asked, oddly calm.

There was a pregnant pause.

"You're not going," Ron said stubbornly.

"I swear, if you say that one more time, I'm through with you," Hermione threatened.

"What?" Ron yelped.

"You heard me. I've spent months waiting for you to do…anything! But you haven't! You have no claim on me, and you cannot order me around as if you do!"

"What do you mean, I haven't done anything? I love you!"

"Yes, but in what way? Because I'm not sure you know. If you did, we wouldn't be having this argument right now." Hermione sighed deeply.

"But…I—you can't go! It's not safe!"

Draco could easily imagine the angry scowl on Hermione's face.

"I'm done, Ronald. I can't do this with you anymore. I'll still be your friend, always, but this…whatever it is between us…it has to end." Hermione sounded sad.

"This is because of him isn't it?" Ron snarled, angry again. "Because of what he told you the other night."

Draco heard the sharp sound of flesh on flesh. Hermione must have slapped Ron.

"How dare you!"

And then the portrait swung open. Hermione stormed out of the tunnel, leaving behind a very stunned Ron. Draco silently undid the spell on his hearing and followed Hermione down the rows of hammocks to the area set aside as the bathroom. Before he even entered the partition, he could hear Hermione's sobs echoing in the space. He glanced around to make sure nobody was watching, then slipped inside. He really shouldn't have been shocked at what he found behind the partition, but he was. Someone—he had no idea who—had transfigured the space into an actual, functional bathroom. Tile covered the walls and floor, which accounted for the echo. There were several toilet stalls, a row of clean white sinks, and a cluster of showers.

Draco followed the sounds of Hermione's tears to the stall at the very back of the row. He knocked lightly on the door. "Hermione, are you all right?" he asked softly.

She sniffled loudly. "No."

"Do you need me to go beat up Weasel?"

Hermione gave a watery chuckle. "No," she sighed. "But thanks."

"I mean it, just say the word," Draco said, only halfway joking.

The lock on the stall door clicked, and Hermione opened it. Her eyes were still red and swollen, but her tears had stopped falling. "Should we get to work on that list?"

Draco nodded. "Do you want to talk about what happened back there?"

She shook her head. "I'll be fine. I just needed one good cry over it. And now it's out of the way, so we can get back to business."

He gave her a small smile. "I bet you wish we could go to the library right now, don't you?"

Hermione grinned. "So much."

"It's a good thing that you thought to pack the whole of Hogwarts library in your little bag, then."

She nudged him with her shoulder. "I did not."

"No?" Draco chuckled.

"I left every single copy of Gilderoy Lockhart's books."

Draco busted up laughing. "That was incredibly thoughtful of you."

Hermione haughtily swept her tangled curls over her shoulder. "I know."

As they walked back toward their hammocks, Draco couldn't help but think that perhaps this was the start of something new. Something great.

* * *

It all came crashing down a few hours later. After checking in with Harry to let him know how progress with the list of protective spells was coming, things seemed to take a turn for the worse. Draco didn't really even know how it happened. One minute, things seemed almost hopeful, and the next, he figured he may as well still be stuck at the Manor with his parents and the Dark Lord.

Draco and Hermione were huddled on the floor by their hammocks, stacks of reference books surrounding them. Draco was scribbling notes on a piece of parchment with a copy of _Extreme Incantations_ resting in his lap while Hermione flipped through a copy of _Charms of Defence and Deterrence_.

"Here's one," Draco said. " _Repello Inimicum_. That's a hell of a charm. If you pass the barrier it creates, it disintegrates you." He looked over at Hermione. "Got any ideas about what reverses it?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Well, there's the Shield Penetration spell. It's supposed to remove any shields present when you cast it. Let me look up the incantation, and we'll list it as a possibility." There was a brief pause as she flipped through the pages of her book. "Here it is: _Precidium Remotio_."

"Great," Draco said, quickly jotting down the words. "Have you found anything?"

"I think we ought to write down _Specialis Revelio_. That would give Harry and Ron a better idea of what kinds of charms or curses will be on the cabinet," she answered, not looking up from her book.

"All right." He wrote it down. "So far we've got a list of fifteen different spells that could possibly be used in that room. D'you think that's enough?"

"I suppose. Just in case some of the counter-spells don't work, jot down _Finite Incantatem_. Hopefully that will remove a majority of the spells."

"Maybe we should figure out a way for us to keep in contact with Potter and Weasley when we're split up. We— "

Draco was interrupted when Ron came stomping into view. "Malfoy!" His hands were balled into fists, his face screwed up in fury. "A word."

"What do you want, Weasel? Can't you see I'm busy?" Draco said derisively.

"I don't bloody care what you're doing!" Ron shouted. He turned to Hermione. "I need to speak to him privately."

Hermione folded her arms and glared at him. "Oh, no. There is no way I'm leaving the two of you alone. You'll kill each other."

Ron sneered at her. "Then I'll just take him elsewhere." He took several menacing steps closer to Draco, extending his arm as if to pull him to his feet.

" _Impedimenta!_ " Ron froze where he stood, unable to move or speak. Hermione was on her feet, her wand pointed at Ron.

Draco stood up, carefully setting their meticulous notes to the side. He held his hands out toward Hermione in a placating gesture. "Hey, let him go." He took a step closer to her. "I know you're angry with him, but you don't want to hurt him."

"The hell I don't!" Hermione shrieked. "I've had enough of his jealous meddling!"

"If you jinx him now, you'll regret it later, you know you will. So let him go." Draco grasped her hand holding her wand and gently lowered her arm.

Hermione sighed heavily, releasing the spell. "You don't have to talk to him, you know."

"I know." Draco wrapped his arms around her comfortingly.

"That's it!"

Draco found himself suddenly flung backward. Before he could regain his feet, Ron had punched him in the jaw. He blinked, and he was on the floor, two fists repeatedly pummeling his face. Distantly, as his vision went black, he thought he heard someone screaming.

"I'll bloody kill you, you fucking bastard!" Ron shouted.

"Ronald! Stop it!" Hermione was desperately trying to pull Ron off of Draco's unconscious form.

"Get off!" Ron flung his arm backward, sending Hermione crashing to the floor, before turning to continue hitting Draco.

"HARRY!" Hermione shouted as loud as she could.

A clatter of footsteps came running towards their corner. "What is it Herm—" Harry stopped when he saw Ron. "Ron! What are you doing?"

Ron didn't answer. He just kept on pummeling every inch of Draco he could reach.

"You're going to kill him!" Hermione shouted.

"Ron! Stop!" Harry moved forward to pull Ron away, but was also flung unceremoniously to the floor. With a scowl, he whipped out his wand and shouted, " _Incarcerous!_ "

Ron was thrown backward as ropes flew from the tip of Harry's wand and tied him up. He struggled mightily against his restraints, soon discovering that the more he fought, the tighter the ropes got.

"Let me go, Harry!" he shouted.

"No! You idiot! You could've killed Malfoy!"

"That was the point!"

Harry got to his feet, shaking angrily. "I can't even look at you right now." He looked around at the crowd that had gathered. "Ginny, is there somewhere we can put Ron until he's calmed down a bit?"

Ginny nodded. "We can lock him in the loo."

"I'm your brother!" Ron yelled at her.

"And a right git, too!" she threw back. "Seamus, Dean, do you mind?"

The two boys warily approached Ron. They lifted him up and carried him away from the crowd, only successful because he was tied up. Ron shouted obscenities the entire way. Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

"Is anyone here particularly good at healing spells?" he asked tiredly.

"Neville is, actually," Ginny said softly. "He's had a lot of time on his hands this year, and he's spent it studying."

Harry gave her a small smile. "That's good. Is he around?"

Ginny looked around at the crowd, searching for Neville. "Does anyone know where Neville is?" she asked when she was unsuccessful.

"I saw him over by the kitchen earlier," someone in the back piped up. "I'll go look for him."

Harry finally turned his attention to Hermione. She had moved to the floor, kneeling by Draco's head. Ron had done a lot of damage; there was blood everywhere. If he hadn't known who it was laying there, he wouldn't have recognized Draco in the least. Even his sleek blonde hair had turned a nasty shade of red from all of the blood. Hermione stared at him, her hands hovering over his face. She looked so broken in that moment.

Just then, Neville came bursting through the crowd. "What's happened?" he asked wildly.

Harry gestured to Draco. "Ron," was his only explanation.

Understanding moved across Neville's face. "Well, first we've got to get him cleaned up." He turned back to the crowd. "Go on, everyone. He'll be embarrassed enough as it is without the lot of you staring at him." The crowd dispersed with ornery mumbles.

Harry stared at him in surprise.

"What?" Neville asked defensively.

"I just…wow. I never really pictured you in a position of power, but here you are." Harry shook his head.

Neville shrugged. "Yeah, well, when everyone started showing up, they just sort of looked to me because I was the first one here."

"Leadership looks good on you."

"Er, Neville?" Hermione said softly. "Can we get back to Draco now?"

"Right. Of course." Neville took out his wand and began the arduous process of cleaning the blood from Draco's body. "Hermione, do you know if he has any spare clothes? These ones are a bit…ew."

Hermione chuckled. "If we have to, we can _Scourgify_ them." She turned to look at Harry. "Unless you don't mind lending him more?"

Harry waved his hand dismissively. "That's not a problem."

"Harry, would you go to the first aid station and see Lavender? Ask her for some Star Grass Solution, a Dreamless Sleeping Draught, and Bruise Removal Paste," Neville instructed without looking up from his task.

"Of course." Harry scurried off in the direction Neville had gestured.

"What can I do to help?" Hermione asked.

"I'm sure you've got all kinds of helpful knowledge in that big brain of yours," Neville said, glancing up at her with a smile. "Actually, do you know how to heal broken ribs? I'm good with other bones, but the ribs never want to cooperate with me."

Hermione frowned. "I'm sure I could figure it out. I mean, I did treat him for the Sarkefahito Curse rather successfully about a week ago."

"Really?" Neville's eyebrows shot up. "On your first try?"

"Don't you remember, Neville? All my spells work for me," she replied with a smirk.

"Oh, yes. How could I have forgotten?"

They both chuckled at the mildly lighter atmosphere.

"I don't know if you'll want to leave, or…" Neville said awkwardly, gesturing toward Draco's clothes.

"No, I don't mind," Hermione said. "I actually already had to see him that way when I was fixing him up before."

"All right, then." Neville waved his wand, and Draco's shirt and pants were, once again, removed from his body.

"How bad do you think it is?" Hermione asked tentatively.

Neville carefully examined every inch of Draco's upper body. "It's hard to say for certain. It's clear that he has several broken ribs, but the risk is that he may have internal injury as well. His right arm's broken, along with his nose and his collarbone. Let's be grateful he's unconscious right now, otherwise he'd be in a world of pain."

"Here, Neville," Harry said as he returned with the requested medicine.

"Fabulous, thank you." Neville set the vials on the floor beside him as Harry walked away again.

Hermione looked back at Neville. "How can we find out if he has any internal injury?"

"I'm not really sure. I know the healers at St. Mungo's have ways to detect that sort of thing, but I've never learned how myself."

"Muggles have this really interesting machine that they use to diagnose illnesses. It's called an MRI. That stands for Magnetic Resonance Imaging. Basically, it sends sound waves through you and creates an image based on what the sound waves bounce back." Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully.

"Hermione," Neville said hesitantly, "we don't have access to Muggle medicine right now."

"No, I know that. I was just thinking that maybe we could create our own spell that would do the same kind of thing."

"Oh! Yeah, that could work."

"We'd have to test it on something before using it on Draco, just in case it doesn't work." Hermione tapped her wand against her palm. "Could you go grab me an avocado?"

Neville furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but got up and walked to the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later, with an avocado in hand, to find Hermione flipping through an old Ancient Runes textbook.

"What are you doing?"

Hermione glanced up. "Just figuring out the right incantation." She pulled out a piece of parchment and laid it flat on the floor. "So, my wand will gather the information, and when I touch it to the parchment, the information will transfer and the image will appear."

"Great. Let's give it a try." Neville handed her the avocado.

Hermione took a deep breath, pointed her wand at the fruit, and said, " _Magnetico Imago Momentum_."

The tip of her wand glowed a bright white as she scanned it across the avocado. Then she touched the tip of her wand to the parchment. With a quick whisper of " _Exumai_ ," an image began to paint itself across the page. Neville gaped at it as they saw the outline of the avocado, the slight grey of the insides, and the solid white of the pit in the center.

"It worked!" Hermione said cheerfully.

She pulled out another piece of parchment, repeated the incantation over Draco, and released the image onto the clean paper. As the picture of Draco's torso became clearer, Hermione sighed in relief.

"See this here, Neville?" she asked, pointing to the distinctive black and white shapes in the center. "If it were fuzzy at all, that would indicate internal bleeding. Because it's clear, that means he has no internal injuries."

Neville nodded appreciatively. "You'll have to write down that spell for me."

"Absolutely."

The pair continued their task, first coaxing the Star Grass Solution down Draco's throat. All the while, a tiny part of Draco's mind remained conscious enough for him to hear what was happening around him. He was grateful that he couldn't feel the pain that Ron had inflicted, but he also hated the feeling of being unconscious. He always felt funny afterward.

Draco felt seemingly random tugging sensations along his midsection. Then they moved to his arm and his collarbone and his face. After what felt like an impossibly long time, he finally began to feel more alert. He swam back into consciousness only to find Hermione gently massaging Bruise Removal Paste on his chest.

"Hey," he croaked.

"Hey yourself," Hermione said softly.

"Where is everyone?"

"Neville's finished, and Harry went off to yell at Ron some more."

"Oh."

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, finally making eye contact.

Draco nodded slowly. "Yeah. This is nothing compared to that curse I took in Knockturn Alley."

Hermione's face pinched with worry. "You don't have to joke about it, you know."

"I'm not," Draco protested. "I really am fine. Or, I will be as soon as I am wearing clothes again."

"Right, sorry." She handed him a clean pair of clothes.

"So, now that we've got our list finished for Potter, d'you think we should deliver that fake galleon to Professor Snape?"

"I don't know," she said. "You really should rest."

"Oh, come on."

"Maybe you should take this sleeping potion. You'll really feel better later."

"I'm fine, I swear." Draco stood up just to prove it. "See? Fit as a fiddle."

"What does that even mean?" Hermione asked with a smirk.

"I have no idea."

Hermione laughed. "I'm still going to insist that you take this Dreamless Sleeping Draught and rest for a while. We can take care of the galleon in a few hours."

Draco frowned but nodded. "Stay with me?" he asked, feeling a bit ridiculous as he did so.

"Sure." Hermione laid down on her hammock and opened a book. "Your turn."

"All right, all right." Draco obediently swallowed the potion and laid on his hammock.

* * *

Several hours later, when Draco was awake again, Hermione was pacing back and forth anxiously.

"Are you sure you feel up to it?" she asked worriedly. "Because we could always make Harry do this."

"And miss out on all the fun? Not a chance." Draco grinned.

"Okay." Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out the fake DA galleon and a scrap of parchment, along with Harry's invisibility cloak. "I have no idea what time of day it is, so this will be the best option."

"We'll both fit under there?" Draco asked dubiously.

"Harry, Ron, and I all can fit under it without a problem." Hermione swung it over her shoulders. "Come on."

Draco ducked beneath the cloak, and they made their way out of the Room of Requirement. They made it to the third floor without incident. The halls were eerily silent. Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Until they reached the gargoyle protecting the entrance to the headmaster's office. Before either one of them could attempt to crack the password, the gargoyle jumped aside, and they were face to face with Severus Snape.


	9. The Headmaster's Office

Chapter Nine: The Headmaster's Office

* * *

Draco held his breath and tightly clutched Hermione's hand in his. She was just as still and silent beside him. Snape swept his gaze up and down the corridor, but, when he seemingly saw nothing amiss, he turned to reenter his office. Draco quickly pulled Hermione after him before the gargoyle could seal the entry again. They rode the spiral staircase just behind Snape and snuck into the office before he snapped the door shut behind him.

"There was nobody there, Albus," Snape said to the portrait of Dumbledore behind the headmaster's desk.

"Are you certain? I could have sworn I heard something." Dumbledore smiled mischievously.

Draco stared at the painting. It was so realistic; it felt like the old man was really in the room with them, even though Draco knew that he was dead. The Dumbledore in the painting looked over to where Draco and Hermione were huddled against the wall by the door. Draco could have sworn that Dumbledore was looking into his eyes, a suspicion that was only confirmed when Dumbledore winked playfully at him.

Apparently the headmaster portraits had the luxury of seeing through invisibility cloaks.

"No, the corridor was empty." Snape sat heavily in his chair and began shuffling through sheets of parchment. "Anyway, back to what we were discussing earlier. You really sent Potter after the Horcruxes?"

Draco's eyes widened and he turned to Hermione, who had a similar expression on her face. "Snape knows?" he mouthed at her.

Hermione shrugged. "I thought he was a Death Eater," she mouthed back.

"Well, I couldn't very well ask you to do it, Severus," Dumbledore chuckled. "Tom would have found it rather suspicious, don't you think?"

Snape turned and glared at the portrait. "You never told him about his role in all of this, though, did you?"

"No. That last night happened far too quickly for me to get the chance," Dumbledore said, feigning remorse. "I had hoped you would do it."

"What? You want me to tell the boy that he has to die to defeat the Dark Lord?" Snape's eyes bugged out of his head.

"I can't do it now, obviously."

"Why would he believe me anyway?" Snape roared. "Especially after he saw what I did on the Astronomy tower last year! Did you know he chased me down and tried to kill me that night?"

Dumbledore smiled fondly. "Ah, how sweet of him. Very courageous indeed."

Snape's mouth dropped open. "Can't you take this seriously for one minute?"

"That would be no fun."

The room fell silent as Snape turned back to the parchment on his desk and began scribbling away with his quill. Draco and Hermione still stared at each other.

"Harry is the last Horcrux," Hermione mouthed in horror.

Draco could only nod his head. Suddenly, it didn't feel so important to leave the galleon with Snape. All he could think about was what this new revelation meant for Harry, for all of them. If Harry was dead, then who would defeat the Dark Lord? Harry was the one prophesied to do it. Draco wanted to leave, to go back to the Room of Requirement, but they were stuck in the headmaster's office until Snape decided to leave again. Unless they wanted to reveal themselves.

"You know, Severus," the Dumbledore in the portrait said conversationally, "I might have another way for Harry to learn about his status. You'll have to promise not to be angry, though."

Snape glanced up at Dumbledore and rolled his eyes derisively. "Fine. I promise."

"Great." Dumbledore clapped his hands together once. "Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, would you care to step forward?"

Draco looked at Hermione in panic.

Snape looked around the office. "There's nobody in here," he said, "least of all those two."

"On the contrary," Dumbledore replied, "they are standing over by the door, beneath an invisibility cloak."

"What?" Snape's eyes widened in fury. "Show yourselves!"

Hermione shrugged at Draco with helplessness, then pulled the invisibility cloak off of them. She held it in her hands and stared at her feet nervously. Draco glared at his former professor.

"So. It's true. You have been traveling with Potter and his band of freaks," Snape said maliciously.

Draco clenched his fists. "Shut up!"

Snape calmly raised an eyebrow. "You don't…care about them, do you?"

"Who are you to question my actions? Whose side are you really on?" Draco countered.

"That's hardly important right now, I'd say."

"Severus, you promised you wouldn't be angry," Dumbledore chided.

Snape rolled his eyes again. "I am aware of that!"

Hermione's head snapped up to look at him, and she narrowed her eyes. "You know about the Horcruxes," she said. "That means you know that there's one in your house at this very moment."

"And?" Snape asked.

"And you ought to help us destroy it!"

Dumbledore tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Now that's an idea."

"I can't help, you stupid girl," Snape sneered. "I'd be killed on the spot."

"I didn't say _how_ you should help us. I may not like you, but I wouldn't ask you to die." Hermione folded her arms. "We've already got a plan."

"I sincerely doubt that this idea is a good one, but you may as well tell me anyway." Snape leaned back in his chair, an amused expression on his face.

"It wasn't my idea," Hermione said, glowering. "It was Draco's."

Now Snape looked interested. Typical. "Go on."

Draco frowned at him. "Don't act so smug. I wouldn't have had the idea if it wasn't for her." He folded his arms defiantly. "The plan is to feed false information to the Dark Lord about Potter's whereabouts, something he can confirm, so that he'll leave your house. While he's otherwise occupied, Potter would sneak into your house to retrieve the Horcrux. By the time the Dark Lord realized it was a ruse, it would be gone."

Dumbledore smiled in approval. "That's quite the plan, Mr. Malfoy. I'm glad that my intuition about you turned out to be correct."

"Sir," Draco said, nodding to the painting. It felt odd.

"And just how did you plan on getting this false information to the Dark Lord, Draco?" Snape asked quietly.

"Stop," Hermione said, holding her hand out to Draco. "How do we know we can trust you?" She glared at Snape. "You killed Dumbledore."

"Oh, Miss Granger. I sincerely regret causing any of you to doubt Professor Snape's intentions. I ordered him to do it, you see. To spare Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore spoke kindly, his eyes still somehow twinkling from the portrait.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "I…I—you…you wanted to die?"

Dumbledore frowned a bit. "I was already dying from destroying a different Horcrux. Severus simply helped me along a bit faster. Now, please do continue telling us about your plan."

Draco fished the galleon out of his pocket. "It's got a Protean Charm on it," he explained. "The words around the edge change to display specific information about meeting times. It's how that group of students kept meeting underneath Umbridge's nose in fifth year."

Snape inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"We were here to leave the galleon on your desk, with a note saying it was found among Longbottom's possessions in his dormitory after a raid. Then, when we were certain you'd be in your office, we were going to send the fake message. You'd see it, believe it was true, and report it to the Dark Lord." Draco stared at Snape, daring him to find flaw with the plan.

"I must admit," Snape said slowly, "that I find your plan to be rather insightful."

"So then you'll help us?" Hermione asked, unable to hide the small edge of hope in her voice.

Snape nodded once. "Obviously you'll still have to send the message, but I'll pass along the information."

Draco huffed in surprise and relief. "You're really not with him?"

"No." Snape's eyes darkened murderously. "He once made me a promise he couldn't keep, and I turned on him the day he broke it."

"Well, thank you," Draco said. "Here." He handed the galleon and scrap of parchment to the current Headmaster.

"You'd best be going before someone discovers your presence here," Snape warned aloofly. "I'll do my part."

Draco nodded, then ducked beneath the invisibility cloak with Hermione. They left the headmaster's office and carefully wound their way back up to the Room of Requirement. They had to find Harry, and fast.

"You did what?" Harry cried, once they'd updated him.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Calm down, Harry. Nothing happened."

"Well," Draco said contrarily, "that's not entirely true."

Hermione frowned at him. "Nothing _bad_ happened," she clarified.

"Well," Draco began.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Hermione snapped.

Draco grinned at her.

"Will you just tell me what's going on?" Harry asked plaintively.

"Try to be open minded about this," Hermione cautioned. "You won't like everything we have to say."

Harry's shoulders slumped. "I knew it."

"It's not that bad, Potter," Draco said.

"It really isn't," Hermione added.

"Should we include Ron in this conversation?" Harry asked.

Draco and Hermione shared a dark look. "I don't think that's the best idea at the moment," Hermione said scornfully. "You can tell him on your own later, and even pretend as if it was you that experienced it if you want. But I don't want him here right now."

Harry nodded sadly. "Stupid bloke," he muttered. "I'm sorry he's being so difficult."

Hermione folded her arms and refused to continue the thread their conversation had followed. "Let's just get on with it."

Draco put a hand on Hermione's shoulder, trying to get her to relax a bit. "We had just gotten to the gargoyle outside the headmaster's office when it opened and we saw Snape." Harry's mouth dropped open, but Draco hurried to reassure him. "We were still under the cloak, don't worry. At any rate, Snape didn't see anything unusual, so he went back into his office, and we followed behind him."

"Did you know that the portraits of old headmasters can see through invisibility cloaks, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry's eyes widened. "Oh, Godric. What happened?"

"Dumbledore saw us and told Snape we were there."

"I don't understand."

"Snape is on our side, Potter," Draco said slowly. "He's a spy for the Order."

Harry shook his head adamantly. "He can't be. I watched him kill Dumbledore!"

"Er…" Hermione bit her lip. "That's where it gets a bit complicated. Dumbledore asked him to."

Harry looked from Hermione to Draco in denial. "No. No way he'd do that."

"I would suggest you go speak with his portrait, but it may not be the best idea to leave you alone in a room with Snape," Draco said.

"It's true, Harry. Dumbledore was already dying." Hermione looked at the floor sadly.

"So now what?" Harry asked quietly.

"Snape agreed to help us. He's going to pretend as if he received the galleon anonymously. We just have to send the message to it, and he'll relay the information to You-Know-Who immediately," Hermione replied.

"Okay." Harry folded his arms. "Let's not plan to do it tonight, though. It's been a long day— "

"Tell me about it," Draco muttered angrily.

"—and I still have to tell Ron," Harry finished with a quick glare in Draco's direction.

"Okay," Hermione said. "I guess we'll catch up with you later." She paused before turning away. "I need to find somewhere else to sleep tonight, though. I can't be around Ron right now."

Harry nodded. "I understand. I'll see you guys later."

Draco followed Hermione to the back corner where their hammocks were strung up. With an air of defeat, Hermione began pulling her hammock from the wall. Draco moved to help her, but she waved him off.

"You should be resting."

"I'm fine," Draco insisted.

"I…I need to be alone right now," she sighed.

Draco frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Look, Draco. I know you mean well, and I know you care about me, but I can't do this right now." Hermione closed her eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Everything is moving too fast for me. I need to slow down, to completely get over Ron before I start anything new. I hope you understand." Her hands clenched the fabric of the hammock tightly.

"Unbelievable," Draco muttered under his breath.

Hermione spun to look at him. "What?"

"I haven't pushed anything," he said irritably. "I mean, yes, I shouldn't have kissed you yesterday in the chamber, but you initiated it the second time. I told you last night that I would give you time. That hasn't changed."

"But look how Ron reacted when I told him it was over. He blamed you. If we were to jump into anything right now, he'd only be more convinced of it. That would just be too hard for me, to have to choose between you or my friends."

Draco scowled at her. "So, let me get this straight. First you didn't want to be with me because you might have had something with Weasley, and now you don't want to be with me because you didn't? That doesn't make any sense!"

Hermione shook her head. "You've got it all wrong."

"Have I?" he snarled. "Bloody fantastic. Look, I'm not asking for a huge commitment. Hell, I'm not asking for anything! In fact, if you hadn't dragged it out of me the other night, I never would have told you how I felt in the first place!" Draco felt a twinge of guilt when he saw her tears threatening to resurface again.

Hermione angrily swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe I didn't want your affection in the first place?"

"So that's how it is, then?" he asked coldly.

"That you expected a different outcome is only a testament to your stupidity!"

Draco forced his features into a blank mask of indifference. "Fine. It's been fairly clear for a while now that none of you want me around. I'll write down the spell that can mimic human presence for your little plan to get the Horcrux, but I'm done after that. I'm leaving." Before he could have the chance to change his mind, before Hermione could have the chance to apologize, Draco turned around and walked away.


	10. Phineas Nigellus Black

Chapter Ten: Phineas Nigellus Black

* * *

Draco and Hermione hadn't realized that the visitor in a portrait of dueling wizards on the third floor had noticed their entering and exiting the headmaster's office. Wickedly gleeful, Phineas Nigellus Black slunk through painting after painting, following the pair so valiantly hiding beneath an invisibility cloak. It really was too bad that those cloaks didn't work on portraits of old headmasters.

Phineas made sure to stay far enough behind them that he wouldn't be noticed. Carefully, the two teenagers slipped through the corridors and wound their way up to the seventh floor. He watched them curiously as they paced back and forth in front of a blank section of wall—a thing which was rather rare in the castle that boasted so many famous artifacts.

After several passes, a door suddenly appeared on that stretch of wall. The teens opened the door and entered the room behind it. Phineas could just barely make out bright strips of fabric and the sound of lots of conversation before the door slammed shut and disappeared. Confused, he decided to find someone who might know more about this bizarre vanishing room.

He dashed through the portraits lining the walls of the castle, startling and upsetting the occupants. Phineas didn't know exactly where the Grey Lady would be, but he assumed it would be somewhere near her precious Ravenclaws. He would start there. Fortunately, Ravenclaw tower wasn't far. He arrived in the corridor only a few minutes later, looking in every direction he could see. The ghost was nowhere to be found.

"Ickle first years better run!" a voice cackled down the hall.

A cluster of children ran past where Phineas was waiting, clearly scared out of their minds. Peeves floated by, hanging upside down, throwing bits of parchment and broken quills at the students. Perfect.

"Peeves!" Phineas shouted.

Peeves stopped dead, spinning every which way to see who had called out to him.

"Over here, you dolt."

Peeves turned and finally spotted Phineas. "Hello, Headmaster," he said impishly. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"I'm not looking for you," Phineas snapped. "Where is the Grey Lady?"

"What makes you think sweet old Peevesie knows anything?" He grinned evilly.

"Don't play stupid with me. I know you have eyes and ears everywhere in the castle. I need to speak with her immediately. Now where is she?" Phineas asked, agitated.

"All right, all right. Keep your knickers on!" Peeves grumbled. "I saw her myself down in the Entrance Hall about five minutes ago." Before Phineas could say anything else, Peeves zoomed away.

It didn't matter. Phineas was already on his way to the Entrance Hall, searching for the Grey Lady. He shoved roughly past Sir Cadogan and his hideous pony on his way down the portraits lining the stairs. Stupid knight always seemed to be in the way. Phineas practically flew through the castle's paintings in his quest to find the elusive Ravenclaw ghost.

Finally, he spotted her just about to float through a classroom door in the Transfiguration corridor. He skidded to a stop in a painting of a dancing witch, rather rudely pushing her aside for a better vantage point.

"Madam!" Phineas shouted. "Miss Ravenclaw!"

The Grey Lady stuck her head back through the door to see who had called out to her. "Yes?" she asked in a wavering voice when she spotted Phineas.

"I find myself in need of your assistance," he replied.

The Grey Lady floated back to where Phineas waited. "What can I do?"

"I need information on a room in the castle," Phineas said excitedly. "It's on the seventh floor. I saw two students in the hallway by the tapestry of Barnabus; a door appeared in the wall, and when they went inside, the door vanished again. Do you know anything about it?"

The ghost smiled primly. "Indeed I do. The room was my mother's invention, as a matter of fact. It's called the Room of Requirement. It appears in moments of great need, and will conform to whatever will aid its occupants the most."

Phineas raised his eyebrows. "I see. Are there any other ways into the room besides that corridor?"

"No." The Grey Lady shook her head slowly. "I do not know for certain whether anyone could summon the room if it's being occupied, nor if they managed to summon it if it would reveal the same room."

"Has it ever been tried?" Phineas pressed.

"I cannot say," she responded. "I do not usually spend my free time on the seventh floor."

"Thank you for your time, nonetheless." Phineas gave her a small bow and flitted from the Entrance Hall.

He vaguely thought it was a good thing that he couldn't get tired as he ran back up through the portraits lining the staircase on his way to the fourth floor. Never one much for patience, Phineas pushed aside the various occupants of the paintings in his hurry to reach the teacher's lounge. He shoved aside the dogs usually found playing poker in the painting on the wall outside the lounge and popped into the painting of the Hogwarts founders inside.

"You may like to know," Phineas said somewhat breathlessly, "that Potter is in the castle with his friends."

A head snapped up to look at him. "How do you know?"

"The Mudblood and young Mr. Malfoy visited the headmaster's office. I followed them when they left, and I know where they're hiding." Phineas smiled proudly.

"They were in my office?" Snape demanded angrily.

"Yes, sir. It was rather quick; I do not know why they were there."

"Why did you not follow them inside?"

"I—I didn't think to," Phineas stuttered. "I thought perhaps you were inside."

Snape glowered at him. "If I had been in my office, you twit, I would not have let the traitorous wretches leave it alive."

"Now, now, Severus," said one man. "He is just an old painting, after all."

Snape waved a hand in dismissal.

"My apologies, Headmaster Snape," Phineas said sarcastically. "If you would like, I could go check your office now."

"No!" Snape clipped. "I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself."

"Back to the matter at hand," a woman said sharply. "Phineas, you said you followed them."

"I did." Phineas smirked.

"And?" another voice asked impatiently.

"They're in the Room of Requirement."

"What's that?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Really, Amycus, did you not attend this school for seven years?"

"I'm sorry, Severus, but I didn't spend my free time looking for secret places to meet my pet Mudbloods."

"Shut up!" Snape growled. "You know nothing of what I did in my time here at school, so keep your idiocy to yourself."

"A bit touchy, are we Snape?" Amycus snarled back.

"Enough!" shouted the woman. "We have more important things to worry about right now!"

"Alecto is right," said another person. "We ought to be searching for this room."

"We should form a search party, Severus."

Snape surveyed each person in the room, finally landing upon the last person to speak. "Well, then, Lucius. Would you like to be in charge?" he asked nastily.

Lucius shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. But if Potter and his friends are indeed here in the school, we must find them."

"You just want to find them to get back in the Dark Lord's good graces," snarled Amycus.

"That's not true!" Lucius shouted.

"Isn't it?" Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not!"

"I'm sure," Alecto sneered, "that it's just to save his blood traitor son."

Lucius glared at her. "I have no son," he growled. "When he betrayed us, he effectively wiped himself off of the Malfoy family tree."

"Lucius, Alecto, do stop fighting," Snape said, clearly annoyed. "We have work to do."

"What should be our course of action?"

"Good question, Theodore." Snape looked at the last occupant in the room. "Go and find your son, have him gather any students willing to accompany us."

"Right away." Theodore Nott, Sr. stood up and rushed into the corridor, heading for the Slytherin common room.

"Amycus, Alecto, go and fetch any available Death Eaters from Hogsmeade. The more people willing to help us confront Potter, the better."

Amycus rolled his eyes. "You do it!"

"Enough! I am the headmaster here. The Dark Lord put me in charge for a reason, not you! So get your asses out there! Now!"

The Carrow siblings reluctantly left their chairs and slunk from the teacher's lounge.

"What would you have me do, Severus?" Lucius asked calmly.

Snape watched him carefully. "If you were to encounter Draco, and you had to kill him, would you?"

Lucius sneered. "If it came down to it, yes."

"Interesting. For now, go to the Entrance Hall and organize everyone into teams. We will need to approach the seventh floor corridor from all sides." Snape waved his hand dismissively.

"Where will you be?" Lucius asked. Snape raised an eyebrow. "Just in case someone should need you!" he added quickly.

"I'm going to Gryffindor tower. Potter may have been there to find some friends, and I want to make sure he's not still there."

Lucius nodded quickly and hurried away.

Snape, carefully hiding his nervousness under his placid, unfeeling mask, stood up and faced the painting. "Thank you, Phineas. Your information has been valuable. You may be excused."

Phineas nodded and vanished from the portrait. The four Hogwarts founders looked at each other somewhat warily, but said nothing. Snape looked at them for a moment before speaking.

"Godric, find Minerva. Tell her what's happened."

Godric Gryffindor nodded and left.

"Helga, Rowena, would you locate Sprout and Flitwick respectively?"

They, too, nodded and disappeared.

"Anything you need me to do?" asked the final occupant of the painting, Salazar Slytherin.

"Yes. Go to the Fat Lady, tell her what is going on, and ask her to tell any Death Eaters she may encounter that I am inside Gryffindor tower, searching through Potter's old room. I have to warn them; they won't believe anyone else."

Snape left the teacher's lounge before getting Salazar's response and nearly sprinted to the seventh floor. His black robes billowing in his wake, Snape paced back and forth in the right spot, desperately thinking, _I need the room where Harry Potter is, I need the room where Harry Potter is_.

A door sprang to life in the wall, and Snape quickly disappeared behind it. Nearly one hundred students from all the houses except Slytherin stopped when the door slammed shut behind him. All heads turned in his direction and stared in horror.

"What's going on? Why did everyone stop talk— " Neville stopped in his tracks when he saw Snape. "Harry!"

Harry pushed his way to the front of the crowd. "What is it Neville?"

Neville could only raise a shaking finger and point at the one person he most feared.

"Snape!" Harry exclaimed.

"Potter, you have to evacuate. The Carrows know you are here, and they are coming. More Death Eaters will be arriving shortly. I have done what I can to stall them, but you only have ten minutes or so to get everyone out. Hurry."

With that, Snape turned and left the Room of Requirement, oblivious to the chaos that had erupted behind him.

No sooner had the door slammed shut than terrified screams began echoing around the room. Several of the younger students were running around, bumping into one another, while the older students tried to keep everybody calm. It wasn't working. Draco, upon hearing the cacophony, raced to the front of the room where Harry still stood in shock.

"What's going on, Potter?" he demanded.

"Snape…" Harry muttered.

"Was he here?"

Harry nodded.

Annoyed at Harry's minimal responses, Draco reared back and slapped him across the face, hard. Harry stared up at him furiously, his hand pressed to his reddening cheek, until everything finally registered. His eyes widened in a bit of a panic.

"The Death Eaters. They're coming right now."

"Well, we have to get everyone out of here," Draco said.

"It's far too loud," Harry muttered. "I can't think."

Draco raised his wand and shot a spell into the air that let off a loud bang that silenced the room immediately. "Go ahead, Potter," he said.

"Right. Neville!" Neville stepped forward. "I need you in the Hog's Head to receive everyone."

Without speaking, Neville rushed off to the portrait. Harry looked around him at the crowd. "Hermione?"

"What do you need, Harry?" she asked.

"Organize everyone into groups. Youngest first."

Hermione immediately began rushing through the room, clustering together four students at a time. She barked orders quickly, but kindly, as she worked.

"Malfoy, can you— " Harry started.

"No, Potter."

Harry looked at Draco in astonishment. "What?"

"I'm out," Draco said lowly. "It's obvious I'm not really helping the situation, so I'm done. I'll figure out something on my own, but you have to get everyone out of here."

"Malfoy, we can't just leave you here." He folded his arms crossly.

"It's not really a choice, Potter." Draco glared at him stubbornly.

"We'll work this out later," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Harry! What can I do to help?" Ginny asked, running over.

"Find anyone who was in the DA and any older students that are willing to fight," he answered, looking around the room distractedly.

Ginny rushed off.

"Malfoy, will you at least help us fight, if it comes to that?" Harry turned to look Draco in the eye again.

Draco took a deep, steadying breath. "All right. Just to make sure everyone has a chance to get out safely."

Harry nodded, somewhat reluctantly. "Thank you." He raised his wand and summoned the Marauder's Map, then activated it. "Ok, it looks like we've still got some time," he said, pointing at the cluster of dots in the Entrance Hall. "There's Snape and the Carrows."

"Why's Theo's dad here?" Draco wondered.

"Huh?" Harry looked to the area labeled as the Slytherin common room, finding that Nott and several other children of known Death Eaters were gathered there. "That can't be good. It looks like he's recruiting."

Draco swiped a hand through his hair. "Not Blaise and Theo. Damn it."

"You don't know that they're doing this willingly," Harry reasoned. "Maybe you can convince them to come with us."

Draco shrugged helplessly. "I have no idea."

"Shit," Harry whispered.

"What?"

"Bellatrix." Harry pointed to the gate marking the entrance to Hogwarts' grounds.

Draco flinched when he saw the group of Death Eaters trailing behind her. "You have to go, Potter. There're too many of them."

"I'm not leaving before I've made sure the rest are out safely."

"Where are they going to go? They can't all stay at the Hog's Head," Draco said, rubbing his forehead wearily.

"No…you're right." Harry furrowed his brow in concentration. "Do you know how to make a Portkey?"

"I think so," Draco said. " _Portus_ , right? And you think of the destination?"

"Yes. Send them all to the woods near where the Quidditch World Cup was held in fourth year." Harry ran off before Draco could answer.

Draco paced back and forth for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to do it. With sudden inspiration, he raced into the back corner where Hermione's bag was still stashed on Harry's hammock. He rummaged around inside until he came up with a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Perfect. He quickly set out the candies in a couple of rows, and began casting the charm on them, remembering perfectly the clearing where he had run into the Golden Trio during the World Cup three years prior.

He finished with the beans in only a minute. Then he summoned a large box full of empty potion vials and began levitating one bean into each glass tube. He had made the Portkeys to be touch-activated, so they needed to be isolated until they were ready to be used. Draco stuffed the vials back into the box and practically ran to the front of the room.

"Potter, it's done." He shoved the box into Harry's arms.

"Great. Thanks." Harry turned to face a shorter, nerdy-looking boy with a camera draped around his neck. "Colin, I need you to go to the Hog's Head and pass out one vial to each group of students. Take Dennis with you."

"But Harry, we were going to stay and fight!" Colin said.

"This is very important, though. I can't trust anyone else to do it properly. Please?" Harry asked.

Colin beamed at him, clearly mollified. "All right. We're on it." He took the box from Harry and motioned for his brother to join him.

"Er, Colin?" Draco said. Colin turned to look at him, a slight frown on his face. "The Portkeys are touch-activated. Will you tell the groups to make sure they're all holding onto the person that will use the bean?"

Colin nodded sharply and ran off with Dennis, the vials clanking merrily in the box.

"I think that's all we can do for now," Harry said pensively.

"There's still way too many kids here," Draco responded.

"I know." Harry looked down at the map in his hands. "We're out of time."

Draco glanced over at the map. Sure enough, a group of no fewer than twenty Death Eaters and Slytherin students was heading up the stairs to the seventh floor. "What the hell? Why is my father here?"

Harry tapped the map with his wand and it went blank. "That doesn't matter right now. Hermione!"

Hermione ran over from the line of students filing out of the Room of Requirement. "Yes?"

"They're almost here. Are you going to stay and fight?" Harry asked.

"Of course. Neville can handle everything on the other end." Hermione pulled out her wand. "What do we do?"

"Ginny's gathering people to fight— " Harry began.

"We're right here," Ginny cut in, a group of around thirty students surrounding them.

"Great. We, er…" Harry trailed off uncertainly.

"Someone put up a Disillusionment Charm over the area where the rest of the students are leaving," Draco said. "Hopefully the other Death Eaters won't think there are any more of us if we stand on this side of the charm."

"Good idea. Hermione?"

"I'm on it, Harry."

A loud banging sounded on the other side of the wall. Harry gulped.

"Wands at the ready, everyone," he instructed.

Draco, along with the other assembled students, raised his wand to the door. Another bang reverberated through the room. Draco glanced over to Hermione, pleased to see that she was finished with the Disillusionment Charm. He focused back on the wall as a third crash echoed around them.

Everything went eerily quiet for a moment. Then, without warning, the wall blew apart. When the dust settled, they saw a small army of Death Eaters on the other side.


	11. The DA Versus the Death Eaters

Chapter Eleven: The DA versus the Death Eaters

* * *

The two assembled groups stared at each other silently for a moment. Then pandemonium erupted as the Death Eaters and Slytherin students rushed into the room. The members of Dumbledore's Army outnumbered them nearly two to one, but their skill level was lower; the fight would be a close call. Draco began firing random spells at the Death Eaters, purposefully trying to avoid his friends and father.

"Well, well, well," someone cackled. Draco turned to see his aunt standing there. "If it isn't our own little blood traitor."

"Go to hell," Draco growled as he fired a Stunning Spell at Bellatrix.

She easily brushed it aside with a swipe of her wand. "No thanks," she said casually. "I think I'd rather send you there instead."

Draco tossed a Disarming Spell at her, and an all-out duel began between them. Bellatrix fired spell after spell, several of them turning out to be the Killing Curse. Draco managed to dodge and block most of her them. When Bellatrix wasn't expecting it, he lunged forward and knocked her wand from her hand. It flew a few feet to her left. While she was distracted, Draco caught Hermione's eye and motioned her over.

Bellatrix straightened as Hermione approached her from behind. "Did you really think that would slow me down?" she snarled at Draco as she Summoned her wand from the floor. "You're a pitiful excuse for a wizard."

Draco shrugged. "Maybe."

" _Avada Ked_ — "

"Excuse me," Hermione said, tapping Bellatrix on the shoulder nonchalantly.

Bellatrix spun around. "Mudblood," she said hungrily.

"Hello again, Bellatrix. It's good to see you," Hermione said politely. "I really was hoping you'd save the first duel for me."

Draco smirked at her. Hermione really was doing a good job distracting his crazy aunt.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Mudblood, but I've already fought several of your little friends. You'll have to settle for me killing you instead," Bellatrix sneered at her.

Hermione caught Draco's eye again and nodded. "That's a shame, but I suppose it's unavoidable. Wands ready, then." She raised her wand.

Bellatrix aimed her wand at Hermione's heart. Before she could get a chance to utter a word, Draco hit her in the back with a Body-Bind Spell. She fell flat on her back, staring angrily up at him. He lifted an eyebrow and gave her his best snooty look. He further immobilized her with _Incarcerous_ and snatched her new wand away from her. Then he snapped it in half and dropped the pieces by her head. Hermione, a grin splitting her face, gave Draco a high five and they walked away to find new enemies to fight.

A miniature war was raging around Draco. He ducked and dodged stray spells, taking down as many Death Eaters as he could. After avoiding one particularly nasty looking spell, he straightened and found himself face-to-face with his two best friends: Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott.

"Draco," Blaise said coolly, his wand pointed at Draco's head.

"Blaise." Draco carefully stuck his wand in his pocket and held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'm not going to fight you."

Theo glared at him. "That's a shame," he muttered. "It'll be far too easy to kill you if you just stand there."

"You don't want to kill me," Draco said softly.

"No?"

He shook his head. "You don't want to be Death Eaters, either. I know you don't. We've talked about it often enough."

"What else are we supposed to do?" Blaise sneered. "Turn blood traitor and run away with you into the sunset?"

Draco shrugged. "Well, I'd be fine without the sunset part, but yes."

Theo shook his head. "We can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because…just because!" Theo looked more like he was forcing himself to be angry. It wasn't genuine.

"Potter can get you out of here," Draco said urgently, his voice low. "If you leave now, in the middle of the chaos, the others may just assume you died fighting."

"They'll know we're not dead once everything is over and they don't find our bodies, though," Blaise reasoned.

"Not if the room burns down."

Theo and Blaise exchanged loaded looks. "We don't have to choose sides?" Theo inquired.

"No. You just hide. Plain and simple." Draco silently urged his friends to do as he requested.

"How do we leave the room without anyone seeing us?" Blaise finally asked.

"I'll show you. Pretend to be dueling with me, and I'll get you there." Draco pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at his friends.

He winked, aimed his wand slightly above Blaise's head, and shouted, " _Expelliarmus!_ "

Blaise and Theo jumped into action, casting silent spells to places close to Draco, but purposely missing him. Draco began backing up, acting as if his friends were overpowering him. They followed, fitting sneers onto their faces. The spells kept flying. Draco took every opportunity he could to hit Death Eaters with his purposely straying spells. He glanced behind him and noticed the faint shimmering of the Disillusionment Charm a few feet away. He took two huge steps back and vanished on the other side.

Then he waited and watched as his friends worked out what had happened. They looked around in confusion, then Blaise nudged Theo. They glanced around carefully, and when they were sure nobody was watching, they stepped through the spell's barrier. Draco grinned triumphantly.

"Nicely done." He motioned to the few stragglers still marching into the tunnel behind the portrait. "Follow them. When you get to the other side, find Longbottom and tell him that I sent you."

They both nodded. "Are you coming?"

"I'll meet you on the other side," Draco said. "I promised I'd stay to fight."

With one last glance back at their friend, Blaise and Theo followed the last of the students out of the Room of Requirement. Draco looked back to where the fight still raged and snuck back into the melee when the coast was clear. He rushed over to Harry's side and began helping him battle Rabastan. Harry hit the Death Eater with a well-timed Stunning Spell. Draco pulled Harry to the side.

"Everyone else is out," he whispered. "Start sending some of our people behind the Disillusionment Charm."

Harry nodded and dove back into the mass of bodies without a word.

The fight got harder the more members of the DA managed to escape. Soon it was down to Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, Ginny, Luna, Seamus, and Dean fighting the remaining Death Eaters. While a large portion of the opposing group had been knocked out or otherwise debilitated, there were still too many, and they were powerful. The Death Eaters certainly didn't go down easily. Already, nearly a dozen members of the DA had been carried out by their fellow fighters when they had become too injured to continue the fight.

Luckily for the DA, Snape just happened to be one of the ones still standing. He had to keep up appearances, so he was fighting viciously. Curses, jinxes, and hexes flew from the tip of his wand at a blinding speed, though most of them actually hit his fellow Death Eaters. The remaining members of the DA fought back with everything they had, even though there was nothing they had to be afraid of—at least not from Snape. The Carrows were still standing, and they were very angry. They, along with several other Death Eaters Draco didn't recognize, were putting up an intense fight. It was clear that the last of the DA was about to be overwhelmed.

Harry looked around desperately, his mind clearly running a thousand kilometers an hour. Draco finally took down Rodolphus, who he had been fighting for the past ten minutes. He was on his way to help the others with Snape when the unthinkable happened.

" _Sectumsempra!_ " Snape shouted.

His spell missed its intended target, and Ron fell to the ground, blood seeping through his clothes. He twitched a few times then was still.

"No!" Hermione screamed, taking a step in his direction.

Snape aimed his wand at Hermione, and Draco lost it. "Potter, get them out of here!"

Harry's head snapped in his direction. "What?" he asked, blocking another spell from a Death Eater.

"All of them. Now!" Draco yelled.

Harry scrambled backwards and grabbed onto Ron's shoulders. Hermione and Luna each grabbed one of his legs and they ran for the Disillusionment barrier. Draco drew a line of fire in front of him, blocking Hermione and the others from view. Seamus, Dean, and Ginny continued fighting at Draco's side.

"Where have all of the blasted kids gone?" shouted one Death Eater.

"Who bloody cares?" Snape roared. "Just get Potter!"

As the conjured fire in front of Draco faded away, he met Snape's glare. Snape's eyes briefly flicked toward the barrier, and Draco knew what would come next. He gestured to the others and bolted.

" _Maledictus Ignitio!_ " Snape cried. Fiendfyre in the shape of a basilisk flew from the tip of his wand and headed toward Draco and the others.

"Severus! What have you done?" hollered Nott. "That thing will kill us just as surely as it will kill them!"

"Shut up!"

Draco reached the portrait just as the flaming basilisk burned through the Disillusionment Charm. He stopped to help the others get into the tunnel before scrambling in himself. Knowing it wouldn't hold for very long, he shouted, " _Colloportus!_ " at the portrait door, hoping it would give them enough of a head start.

They ran down the corridor towards the Hog's Head. After they had gone a few meters, the portrait blocking the entrance burst into flame. It crumbled to ash almost instantly, and a blast of hot air rushed toward them. Draco choked on the smoke and put on a burst of speed, propelling himself farther away from the Room of Requirement. Somehow, they made it to the other side without the fiendfyre following them.

"Oh, thank God!" Neville cried out as they emerged into the pub. "Come on!"

Draco didn't stop running until he'd reached Neville's side. He grabbed onto Neville's shoulder just as Neville dropped his Bertie Bott's Bean Portkey into his hand. Instantly, the filthy walls of the Hog's Head swirled away. Draco felt as if his limbs were being ripped from his body. Then they were all tumbling to the ground. Draco released Neville's shoulder and pushed himself to his feet, looking around.

He was standing in the clearing in the woods, exactly where he had planned for the Portkeys to go. But there was nobody else around. Where had the others gone? Draco began to panic. What if they wound up spread across the world, all because his ability to make Portkeys was mediocre at best? He was about to barge into the trees when Harry appeared before them, covered in blood.

"Potter— "

Harry shook his head. "It's Ron's."

Draco nodded sharply. "Where is everyone?"

"Hermione put up wards. Follow me."

He turned around and led them down a small—and well-hidden—deer trail. A few yards later, they emerged in another, much larger, clearing. Tents were set up everywhere, and campfires were scattered throughout. Harry took them to the center of camp and ducked inside a white tent, where the wounded had been brought and attended to.

Hermione sighed in relief when she saw them come in. Ron was lying on a cot, stripped of his bloody clothes and covered by a scratchy-looking blanket. The wounds on his arms and shoulders were clearly bleeding still, indicating that the rest of his wounds were, too. Draco cautiously approached.

"Is there anything we can do?" he asked quietly.

Hermione shrugged. "As far as I know, Snape invented this curse, and I don't know the first thing about reversing it."

Hannah Abbott walked over. "We keep giving him blood replenishing potion so he won't die from blood loss, at least for now. But if we can't figure out how to close the wounds, he won't be around for very long." She shook her head sadly. "I wish I knew what to do."

Draco frowned. "Where did you get blood replenishing potion?"

Hannah pointed at Hermione. "Ask her."

He turned his gaze to Hermione. "Well?"

Hermione smiled somewhat sheepishly. "You know me; I can't go anywhere unprepared. I grabbed everything from the first aid station back in the Room of Requirement and put it in my bag."

"But you weren't carrying your bag," Draco protested. "I saw you."

This time Hermione smiled smugly. "I shrank it down and put it in my pocket."

"Brilliant." He shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Malfoy," Harry said as he approached. "You don't happen to remember how Snape healed you when I used _Sectumsempra_ on you last year, do you?"

Draco pursed his lips. "I was pretty out of it at the time."

"What about extracting the memory?" Hermione suggested. "One of us could revisit that day and find out what Snape said."

"Yes, that's a great idea!" Harry said excitedly. "How about it, Malfoy?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You have a Pensieve in your miracle bag, Granger?"

"Oh," she said, her elation fading. "No, I don't."

"There must be other ways to view memories besides a Pensieve, though," Harry insisted. "Would you happen to have any books that might tell us for certain?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "I might. I have to check."

Draco watched as she rushed from the tent, only to return moments later with her beaded bag. Hermione sat down on the floor and began Summoning books from the endless depths of her bag. After only a few minutes, she was surrounded by stacks of books of various sizes and lengths.

"Do you need any help?" Harry asked from where he stood by Ron's cot.

"Er," Hermione mumbled as she sorted through the books, "yes, please."

Harry moved over to where she sat and crouched down. "What do you need me to do?"

"Get rid of any spellbooks. Those won't be applicable."

Draco watched them silently, half wanting to help, half torn between leaving. He honestly didn't know what to do anymore. He had firmly decided that he was ditching the Golden Trio once they left the Room of Requirement, but he still remembered the promise he'd made to himself about keeping Hermione safe. Could he really trust Potter and Weasley to do it for him? They hadn't exactly done a good job when they'd been brought to Malfoy Manor. And what about Blaise and Theo? Was he supposed to stick with them now? What would they do until the war ended? It was like Draco had said to Hermione two nights ago: the war might not end for another ten years. Could he really live on the run for that long?

"Okay, I think it might be in this book."

Draco was pulled from his reverie at the sound of Hermione's voice. She was holding up a copy of a book titled _Magical Artifacts: Natural and Artificial_. He continued to watch her without speaking.

"Are you sure, Hermione?" Harry asked.

She shook her head. "Not really. But I can't think of any other book that might have an answer." She began flipping the pages of the book at a rapid pace. About two-thirds of the way through, Hermione stopped with her finger on a page. "Yes. Right here."

"Well?" Harry asked impatiently.

"It says: _'The Pensieve is a rare Magical artifact that allows memories to be viewed by either the person who owns the memory or by an outside party. It is typically shaped like a shallow basin, made of metal or stone, and enchanted with runes of unknown origin. It is the lack of knowledge about these runes that makes the Pensieve so irregular. Very few were made, and the creator left no indication of how to produce more. However, there is another way to view memories outside of a Pensieve. An even less-common artifact known as the Pensaguar can be made with relative ease. One simply needs a bowl or other container that can hold liquid, then must add at least four liters of enchanted water. Once the memory is added to the enchanted water, a person can view it much like they would be able to in a Pensieve._ ' Don't you see?" Hermione exclaimed. "If we can just locate a body of enchanted water, we'll be able to view the memory!"

Harry looked around at the other people in the tent, an uncomfortable look on his face. "But where are we supposed to find enchanted water? Isn't it typically hard to find?"

Draco sighed heavily. How was it that he kept having the answers to problems the Golden Trio encountered? He knew exactly where they could find some enchanted water. He just wasn't sure he wanted to tell them. If he did, they might never allow him to leave; they'd be too dependent on his having all the answers. Things just kept getting more and more confusing.

"I'm not sure. I could do more research, of course, but maybe it would be easier to ask everyone in camp if they know of something— " Hermione started.

"I know where you can get the water," Draco finally said.

Harry and Hermione looked up at him in astonishment. "Well?" Harry asked.

Draco closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, I'll tell you, but you have to promise to let me leave after I give you the damn memory."

Harry frowned at him. "Why are you suddenly so keen on leaving, Malfoy?"

Draco glared back. "Why do you think?" he snapped. "None of you really want me here. Why should I stick around if that's the case? I shouldn't just be a resource of information to the lot of you, but that's what I've become, and I'm sick of it!"

"Slow down, Malfoy," Harry said. "What makes you think we don't want or need your help?"

"For starters—" Draco waved toward Ron. "—he'd rather see me dead than helping you." Harry opened his mouth to object, but Draco held up a hand to silence him. He glanced uncomfortably at Hermione. "It's not just that. Granger said I wasn't needed and that my efforts weren't appreciated. So I'm done. I have nothing to prove to you people."

Harry turned and glared at Hermione. "What the hell is your problem?" he demanded.

Hermione folded her arms across her chest defensively. "What's my problem? How about his problem? Malfoy's the one that's been picking fights left and right lately!"

Draco just looked at her, hiding his thoughts behind his usual blank stare. "So I asked Weasley to beat me half to death today?"

"No, that's not what I meant," Hermione said, shaking her head furiously. "But just because someone says something you don't like, doesn't mean you have to threaten to pack up and leave every time!"

"What are you going on about?"

Hermione glared at him fiercely. "Every single time we've had a disagreement, you've immediately threatened to leave us behind. Every. Single. Time." Draco was a bit startled to realize there were tears in her eyes.

"I've only said that because it's so bloody obvious that you want me gone!" Draco said heatedly.

"Oh my God," Harry groaned. "Would you two just shag already and get on with it?"

Draco and Hermione stared at him in shock. When Harry realized what he'd said, he turned bright red. His eyes went wide and his mouth nearly dropped to his knees.

"I—I didn't mean…I'm…" he stuttered.

"What is wrong with you?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Good question," Harry mumbled. Then he looked back at Hermione determinedly. "Look. You need to sort out whatever this is with Malfoy. Despite what you may think sometimes, we do need his help. Make it right."

Harry abruptly turned on his heel and marched from the tent, leaving Draco and Hermione alone with an unconscious Ron in the background. Draco glared at the floor of the tent, refusing to be the one to break the awkward silence. Finally, Hermione cleared her throat.

"I didn't mean it, what I said earlier. I'm sorry." She sounded reluctant to admit it.

Draco shook his head but still didn't meet her gaze. "You wouldn't have said it if it weren't true on some level."

"No, that's not completely true. Sometimes—especially when we're arguing—I have a hard time thinking of you as someone other than who I knew in school. What I said earlier was really meant for that Draco, not the person you are now."

"But still," Draco persisted, "I shouldn't have to prove to you, especially now, that I've changed. I left everything behind for you, but that's still not good enough."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, you left everything behind for me?"

Draco sighed. "I didn't save you at the Manor because I wanted to help you to defeat the Dark Lord. I couldn't care less about that. I did it because I couldn't just watch you die. I— "

He stopped talking when Hermione rose fluidly to her feet. She stepped over her stacks of books and moved closer until they were only a hair's breadth away from each other. "But then why have you stayed with us since then?" she asked quietly.

Draco mumbled something incoherent.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that," Hermione said with a small grin.

"I couldn't," he said after a moment. "I couldn't just leave, knowing you might somehow wind up back at the Manor. I wouldn't be there a second time to help you."

Hermione searched his eyes for a long time before she finally spoke again. "Please stay," she whispered.

Draco could only nod. She got to him every time.

"Do you know what would help me the most right now?"

He shook his head.

"If you would tell me when things really changed for you. You told me before that you've liked me for a long time, but I don't know when that happened. What changed your mind about me?"

"I, er…maybe that's a conversation we should save for another day," Draco said. "Right now we should help Weasel."

Hermione gave him another long look but finally relented. "So where exactly is this enchanted water you know about?"


	12. A Memory Best Forgotten

Chapter Twelve: A Memory Best Forgotten

* * *

"Oh, hell no," Theo shouted.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Come on, mate. We need it to heal someone."

Theo shook his head stubbornly and turned to Blaise. "Tell him I won't go."

Blaise shrugged. "Theo says he won't go," he said to Draco.

"Fine. I'm through asking. I'm going whether or not you want me to. I was just trying to be polite." Draco turned around and began striding away.

"Wait." Theo grabbed at his elbow and pulled him back. "You won't be able to set foot on the grounds without my help."

"Then help me, Theo. Please."

Theo's eyes widened. "Okay."

"Okay? You'll help? Just like that?" Draco stared at him incredulously.

Theo lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "You said please."

"Oh."

"Come on, then." Theo took hold of Draco's arm and Disapparated.

Draco had been to Theo's house hundreds of times over the years, but it seemed different today somehow. He couldn't quite pinpoint what the change was. The grey plaster was still dirty and cracked; the front door was still a sickly shade of red; the grass and gardens surrounding the home were still dead. Maybe the change was Draco himself. He wasn't the same person he'd been last summer when he'd come to visit. The house felt ominous and Dark when before it was warm and inviting.

Theo pushed open the black iron gate and headed around to the backyard. The two friends made sure to avoid any of the windows, just in case Theo's dad had returned home. The house stayed dark and quiet, though. Before stepping around the side of the house, Theo pulled his wand from his pocket and muttered a quick incantation. A silver sheen rippled through the air, and the boys were able to pass into the back garden.

The plants here were just as dead as the ones around front. The only thing worth looking at was the small burbling fountain at the back of the property in the not-so-much-anymore rose bed. The fountain was made to look like a natural spring—which it was, of a sort—with the water basin set into the ground. It was surrounded by river rocks to disguise container, and a tiny burble of water rose and fell in the middle of the pond-like structure. A small waterfall was built along the right side, and water trickled down into the basin with a light dripping sound.

Draco moved closer to the fountain and withdrew a small bottle from his pocket. He held it in the palm of his hand, then muttered, " _Engorgio_ ;" the bottle grew to be gallon-sized. He dipped the bottle into the fountain and let it fill up, then he screwed the lid back on tightly and shrank it down again so it would fit in his pocket. He stood up and rejoined his friend

"Thanks for this," he said.

Theo nodded, and they Apparated back to camp. Draco hurried back to the infirmary tent, knowing Hermione would be anxious. He was right—she sighed in relief when she saw him; he was hardly aware of her movement as she ran over to give him a bear hug. Draco patted her back, somewhat uncomfortable, and nudged her with the bottle of enchanted water.

"Your water, madam."

Hermione pulled away and stared at the bottle as Draco placed it in her hands. "I have to admit that I wasn't sure you really did know where to find enchanted water."

Draco frowned at her. "Then what did you think I was doing for the last hour?"

She shrugged, suddenly looking embarrassed. "Nothing."

"No, really. Tell me."

"I thought you might have gone off alone anyway," she mumbled.

Oh. Draco pulled her into another hug, squashing the bottle between their bodies. "I won't leave. I promise," he whispered. "I won't even suggest it ever again."

Hermione nodded mutely against his shoulder.

"Now, what do you say we fix up Weasel, here?" Draco gestured toward Ron's prone body.

"Okay."

Hermione set the bottle of water next to Ron's head, then moved to the back of the tent and picked up a wooden bowl. When she got back to Ron's side, she poured the water into the bowl.

"Now I just need your memory," she stated.

"How do I give it to you?" Draco asked.

"Focus on the memory you want to extract, then put your wand up to your temple."

Draco followed her instructions.

"Now you just have to pull your wand away from your head, and the memory will be attached." Hermione shrugged as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

He closed his eyes and focused on that terrible day last year that he had broken down in the bathroom. He imagined the moment when he realized Harry had come in, then slowly pulled his wand away from his temple. When he opened his eyes, a silvery substance was hanging off the tip of his wand like a loose thread. Hermione guided his hand to hover over the bowl of enchanted water and moved his wrist so that his wand flicked the memory into the water. The water began to swirl languidly in the bowl, almost stirring the memory around to mix in thoroughly.

"Now we just have to go into the memory," Hermione said softly.

"Go into the— " Draco started.

His words were cut off as Hermione grabbed his hand and plunged her head into the water. Draco felt his feet lift off the floor of the tent as he pitched headfirst into the bowl with her. It felt like they fell for hours, and then suddenly they were tumbling to the tiled floor of a boys' bathroom. Draco stood up and looked around quickly. When he saw himself leaning over a sink and staring miserably at the drain plug, he squeezed Hermione's hand. It was strange to be looking at himself from that perspective.

"Don't," Myrtle's voice floated over from a cubicle. "Don't…tell me what's wrong…I can help you…"

"No one can help me," Draco watched himself say. "I can't do it…I can't…It won't work…and unless I do it soon…he says he'll kill me…" There were tears running down his pale face.

Draco-from-the-past heaved a great sigh and, with a shudder, looked up into the mirror above the sink. The real Draco watched in amused horror as his past self met Harry's eyes, then spun around while pulling out his wand. He shot a hex in Harry's direction, but Harry managed to block it. Draco then blocked the returning jinx and raised his wand for another go.

"No! No! Stop it!" Myrtle shrieked. "Stop! STOP!"

Draco's next spell missed Harry completely and blew up the trash bin instead. Harry tried to toss another curse, but Draco managed to dodge it at the last second, and it bounced off the wall behind him, shattering the water tank by Myrtle. Water sloshed everywhere. Face screwed up in fury, Draco raised his wand one more time as Harry slipped on the wet floor.

" _Cruci_ — "

The real Draco winced and looked away when Harry waved his wand desperately and shouted, " _SECTUMSEMPRA!_ "

Blood gushed from Draco's face and chest and, after stumbling around almost comically for a moment, he fell to the floor, landing in a huge puddle of water. The real Draco watched his wand fall out of his past self's limp hand and roll underneath a sink.

That was the last thing that Draco remembered happening, but the memory continued.

"No!" Harry splashed his way over to where Draco lay unconscious. "No—I didn't— "

Myrtle screamed. "MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!"

Harry threw a glare in her direction before hurrying toward the exit. Then the door swung open and crashed against the wall. Professor Snape stood in the doorway, indescribable hatred marring his face. He shoved Harry to the side and rushed to where Draco lay in a pool of his own blood.

" _Vulnera Sanentur_ ," Snape whispered as he traced his wand along Draco's wounds. " _Vulnera Sanentur_ — " Another pass of his wand. "— _Vulnera Sanentur_." The third pass fully sealed the cuts lacing Draco's body, and the memory faded away.

The real Draco was startled when his feet slammed back into solid ground. He glanced around and realized they were in the white tent again. He turned to Hermione, who looked far too pale.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, gently putting a hand on her arm.

Hermione shivered. "Don't die on me," she whispered fretfully. "That was terrible."

Draco pulled her, once more, into a tight hug. She clung almost desperately to him. He realized after a moment that she was crying—her tears had gotten his shirt wet. Draco lightly pushed her back and looked her in the eye.

"I'm not dead, remember?" he said.

Hermione nodded, tears still running down her cheeks. Draco impulsively leaned forward and kissed her, for the first time being the one to reassure her instead of the other way around. He figured he would have done anything to continue, but he reluctantly pulled away, wiping at the tears on Hermione's face. She leaned into his hand and closed her eyes.

"You should probably use that spell now," he said softly.

She nodded. "Yeah."

Draco chuckled when Hermione still made no effort to move away. He gently pushed her towards the cot where Ron still rested. She stumbled a little bit, giving him a playful glare before turning her attention to her injured friend. Hermione pulled out her wand. With a brief wave, the light blanket covering Ron folded back to just below his waist. Another wave removed the bandages covering his wounds. She traced the most severe gash along his collarbone, softly saying the incantation. It stopped bleeding right away. Seeming satisfied with the results, she continued on to trace the rest of his injuries. Then she started back at his collarbone for the second pass.

For some reason, the spell didn't do what it was supposed to. Ron was no longer bleeding out, but the cuts crisscrossing his face and torso refused to close. Hermione repeated the action, growling in frustration when there was still no improvement. Draco moved to her side.

"What's wrong?"

"It's not working!" she exclaimed. "In your memory, it only took three passes to heal the injuries, but it's not doing that with Ron!"

Draco frowned. "I wonder why."

Hermione tried the spell one more time and, when it was still unsuccessful, chucked her wand across the tent. "Stupid, useless twig!"

"Well, we can't just leave the wounds open," Draco opined. "Do you have any idea how to do it the Muggle way?"

She nodded. "Before Hogwarts, I was a girl scout. We learned first aid."

"Then that will have to do for now," Draco said. "He'll just have to recover the old fashioned way."

"I guess. Will you help me?" Hermione twisted her fingers together.

"Always." And Draco meant it.

Hermione smiled at him. Then she moved to the small table behind Ron's cot and gathered a few things she'd need. When she returned, Draco saw that she held several more bandages, a roll of tape (he assumed it was medicinal of some sort), a bottle labeled "rubbing alcohol," a C shaped needle, and a strange kind of thread.

"What's first?" Draco asked.

"We have to clean off the blood," Hermione answered.

Draco pulled out his wand. "Easy." With a quick swish, the grime, blood, and sweat vanished from Ron's body.

"Now we have to clean the wounds." Hermione opened the bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured some onto a folded square of gauze.

"What is that smell?" Draco demanded. "It's awful."

"That would be the rubbing alcohol," Hermione supplied. "It's supposed to smell like that."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "Gross."

Hermione shrugged. "It has to be done."

She gingerly began wiping the alcohol-soaked gauze along the cut on Ron's collarbone. Ron began to fidget and moan, clearly feeling discomfort. Then his eyes snapped open and he shot to a sitting position, screaming loudly. Hermione jumped back at his sudden movement.

"Draco, can you hold him down?" she asked uncomfortably.

Draco scowled. "I suppose."

He moved so he was standing at the head of Ron's cot, then carefully pulled back on Ron's shoulders, trying to get him into a horizontal position once more. Ron struggled against his grip, still yelling.

"Gerroff! Get your hands off me! Let go!" Ron began shouting obscenities.

"Hold on," Hermione said before dashing from the tent.

"Hermione, wait!" Draco called after her, still fighting with Ron.

Mere moments later, Hermione reentered the tent with Harry in tow. Harry took in the scene, his eyes wide, before he snapped to attention and forced Ron to look at him.

"Ron, it's okay. Relax." Harry placed a calming hand on Ron's left shoulder, forcing Draco to relinquish his grip.

"Harry?" Ron muttered, confused.

"Yeah, mate, it's me."

"What's going on?" He looked around the inside of the tent warily.

"You've been injured," Harry explained quietly. "Hermione is trying to help you, but she needs you to lay down."

Ron nodded, clearly disoriented. "It hurts, Harry."

Harry pressed his hand against Ron's shoulder and managed to convince him to lie back down. "I know, mate. It's going to hurt for a while, I'm afraid."

Ron's forehead crinkled. "But why?"

Harry looked across the cot at Hermione.

"Ron," she whispered.

He turned his bewildered gaze to her. "'Mione?"

"Ron, the counter-curse didn't work like it was supposed to. I can't heal these cuts by magic." She placed a hand on his arm.

"I'm gonna die?" Ron whispered desolately.

Hermione choked back a laugh. "No, of course not. I wouldn't let that happen. But I'll have to close your wounds the Muggle way, with stitches. And you'll have to stay here with the DA until you're better."

"Oh."

Harry looked at Hermione incredulously. "What?"

She shook her head. "I'll tell you later."

"But— "

"Later, Harry."

Hermione turned her attention back to Ron. "Look, I have to clean out the cuts," she explained. "It's not going to feel very good."

Ron frowned deeply. "Can't you numb it first?"

Hermione looked first at Harry then Draco in desperation. Draco realized that she didn't know the answer to Ron's question. It shocked him to think that there was something Hermione didn't know.

"I don't know," Harry said. "Of course, I never read, so that's not a surprise."

Draco snorted in amusement.

"I've read plenty of books on magical medicine, but the only spell I've come across that can numb an injury takes a long time to cast. Time we don't have. The best I can think of is a pain potion." Hermione shrugged helplessly.

"Is there a Muggle remedy here?" Harry asked anxiously.

Hermione shook her head. "I packed everything up from the Room of Requirement. I would know."

Ron sighed in defeat. "Just do it, then."

Draco raised his eyebrows. He'd always viewed Weasley as a coward, and that was still largely true, but being willing to suffer that level of pain was definitely a brave thing. He didn't think he'd be able to do it himself. In fact, he knew he wouldn't be able to.

Hermione nodded briskly. "Draco, Harry, you may need to hold him down." Ron's eyes widened slightly. "I'm sorry, Ron."

Ron gulped and nodded.

Harry stood on Ron's left side and put one hand on his shoulder. Draco placed both of his hands on Ron's other shoulder, still standing by his head. Hermione rewetted the square of gauze and returned to her task. When the alcohol began doing its job of cleaning out Ron's cuts, he tensed up and hissed through his teeth. Draco tightened his grip slightly.

It was worse once Hermione had threaded the needle and began sewing his skin closed. Ron did his very best to hold still throughout the procedure, but Draco watched as he winced with every prick and pull of the needle. It looked incredibly painful. Draco was glad he wasn't the one on the cot right then. He thought they were at it for over two hours before Hermione snipped the extra thread off of the last suture.

"There. I'm all done," she said.

Ron nodded, still gritting his teeth against the pain.

"I have to cover up the stitches, but that won't hurt."

Ron nodded again.

Harry moved to the back of the tent and began rummaging through a box of potions. He pulled out two small vials, then returned to Ron's side and shoved them into his hand.

"Here. These will help. Star Grass Solution and Dreamless Sleep."

Ron gulped down the potions without question, and soon after drifted off to sleep. Hermione finished applying his bandages, and then the three conscious people left the white tent. Harry gave Draco and Hermione a thorough look before he turned and walked down a pathway between the tents.

"So." Draco looked at Hermione.

"So."

"What happens now?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know," she whispered.

"Me neither."

"Well," she said, taking a step closer to him, "how do you feel— " Another step closer. "—about this?"

Hermione closed the last few inches of distance between them and pressed her lips to his. Draco was shocked, but responded enthusiastically. His arms went around her waist, pulling her as close to him as he could. He moved his mouth from hers, only to move to the spot below her ear and nip lightly at her tender flesh. Draco made a trail of kisses down her neck and across her collarbone before moving back to capture her lips with his again.

"Is there somewhere private we can go?" he whispered gruffly.

Hermione pushed him away. "Hold on," she said breathlessly. "We can't do that right now."

Draco gazed at her through lust-filled eyes. "You're probably right, but I'm not thinking straight."

"Then I'll think straight for both of us," Hermione chuckled. "It's nearly one in the morning. Go get some sleep."

"Okay.

Hermione granted him one last chaste kiss before spinning him around and shoving him in the direction of a green tent. Draco looked over his shoulder at her as she ducked inside of a light blue one herself. Of course she was right. They were in the middle of a war. Neither one of them could afford to become distracted by carnal desires while they were fighting just to stay alive from one day to the next.

Then again…No. Draco stopped that thought in its tracks, knowing full well it wouldn't be helpful at the present time. He really should get some sleep. Who knew what the next day would bring. There were a few things Draco knew were on the to-do list: send the fake message to Snape to give to Voldemort; set up the fake campsite to ensure Voldemort would leave his safe house; get inside Snape's house to retrieve and destroy the next Horcrux. Beyond that, Draco knew that Nagini would have to die at some point. And so would Harry.

That was a thought he didn't want to consider. Because if Harry was dead, who would defeat Voldemort? True, all the fragments of his soul would be destroyed, but could just anyone end the psychotic man's life, or did it have to be the Chosen One? If it had to be Harry, then they were all doomed. And that was an outcome Draco really didn't want. Why go through all of this trouble if it would just end in their defeat anyway? He wished he had the answers.


	13. The House on Spinner's End

Chapter Thirteen: The House on Spinner's End

* * *

Draco paced back and forth in front of the fire pit. He alternated between glaring at the ashes and glaring at Harry. Nothing was going according to plan, and he didn't like it. Harry and Hermione just watched him bemusedly.

"Are you going to talk to us now?" Hermione finally asked.

"I can't believe you sent Snape the message without talking to me first!" Draco bellowed.

Harry rolled his eyes. "We have to get the Horcrux, and we can't afford to wait much longer!"

Hermione moved to stand in front of Draco. "Look, you're not really even going to be in danger with the changes to our plan."

"I don't care about being in danger!" Draco shouted. "I care about the bloody Chosen One dying before he can kill the most psychotic wizard to ever walk the earth!"

"Malfoy, that's enough!" Harry snapped. "This isn't your decision, it's mine. You and Hermione are our best chance at retrieving that damn Horcrux from Snape's house now, and someone's got to distract You-Know-Who. I've already volunteered. It's too late to change the plan again, so get over it!"

Hermione put her fists on her hips. "Harry, don't walk into this blindly. Maybe you could take someone from the DA with you as backup or something. Don't do anything stupid or excessively heroic."

Draco nodded emphatically. "Exactly. If you get yourself killed today, you may as well condemn the rest of us to death, too."

Harry sighed and dropped his shoulders in defeat. "Fine. All right. I'll take someone with me. Happy?"

Hermione nodded briskly. "Yes. Who's going to go with you?"

"Oh, come on. Must you know everything?" Harry rolled his eyes again.

Draco glared at Harry. "You just lied to her, didn't you? You weren't really going to ask anyone to go with you! Stop playing the bloody martyr, Potter!" He wanted so desperately to smack some sense into the green-eyed idiot.

Harry looked at his feet and didn't say anything.

"Damn it, Harry!" Hermione exploded. "If you don't agree to take someone as backup, then you'll be taking me!"

Draco felt a jolt of panic in his chest. "Who's the best at dueling in your group?"

Hermione pursed her lips in thought. "Out of everyone in the DA, I think Fred and George are the best, but they're not here, so that's no help. Of everyone _here_ , Dean is fairly decent, but he may be a bit out of practice considering how long he was on the run."

"Okay, but you still haven't answered my question," Draco interjected.

"Sorry, sorry. Just thinking out loud," Hermione said. "All right. Harry, I think you should take Ernie Macmillan. I really would rather you take Ginny, but I know you wouldn't go for it, and Ron would probably kill me. Ernie's our next best dueler, and he's got a wicked Jelly-Legs Jinx. He's also mastered nonverbal spells."

Harry nodded slowly. "Fine. I'll take Ernie."

"Good."

"Fine."

"Now, listen," Draco said, attempting to change the subject. "As much as I detest it, I was trained in a lot of Dark spells over the last year, as well as a lot of spells that aren't exactly good, but are still a bit…shady, we'll say. At any rate, you need to be able to cast a few of them before you go."

Harry nodded. "Aside from the one that mimics human presence, what else is there?"

Draco resumed his pacing. "I've been thinking about all the typical spells that the Death Eaters would expect to see if they were to really find our camp. They'll expect the obvious ones we've been using, of course, but I think that a few extras should be added. You-Know-Who will have told them to expect a few additions from me. You might not like casting the spells, but it's necessary."

"Okay, but can we move on to the part where you actually teach me the spells?" Harry interrupted.

"Right, sorry," Draco said distractedly.

"Perhaps we ought to go somewhere else," Hermione suggested. "That way there won't be any interruptions, and there also won't be anyone else in danger should any of the spells not go as planned."

"Good idea," Harry said. "There's a lake to the west of us, and it has a small island in the center. We can go there."

Hermione nodded emphatically. "That's perfect."

A few minutes later, the trio was standing on the muddy patch of ground that was approximately five square meters. Small, but effective. Draco had already ensured that Harry knew the typical protective enchantments, and they were ready to move on to the more complex few.

"I think it might be a good idea for him to use that disintegration barrier we found out about yesterday," Hermione said to Draco.

He nodded. "Yes, that's a good idea. Unfortunately, we'll have no idea if he does it correctly, as none of us have ever used it before."

"Well, just give me the curse and its reversal spell, and I'll do my best," Harry reasoned.

"Okay." Draco reached into his pocket and withdrew the piece of parchment he'd grabbed before their trip to the tiny lake-island. "The incantation is _Repello Inimicum_. The reverse is _Precidium Remotio_."

Harry furrowed his brow in concentration, apparently trying to memorize the information. "Go on."

"One particularly nasty spell is _Deprehominus Perdere_." Draco strode to one end of the island and back. "It's a detector spell. It'll tell you if there are any humans in the area, and if there are, you can activate it to destroy anyone within the boundary, aside from yourself, of course."

"That definitely sounds like something you'd use," Harry reasoned.

Draco scowled at him. "Prat. The word to activate it is _Ite_."

"How will he practice that one? We don't exactly have any expendable humans at our disposal." Hermione frowned thoughtfully.

"That's the good thing," Draco said. "It can be altered to include animals, as well as altered to detect only animals. It's a very flexible spell."

"How do I alter it?" Harry asked.

"Instead of _Deprehominus_ , say _Depranimalus_ ," Draco explained. "You'll only need those two, but I can teach you the other modifications another time if you're interested."

"Okay." Harry raised his wand. Then lowered it again. "There're no animals here."

"We can easily fix that," Draco said. "Cast the spell."

Harry did as directed. A soft blue light lit up the island for a brief moment, then the air around them was still once more. Draco in turn lifted his wand and waved it in a perpendicular S shape before him and murmured, " _Serpensortia_." A large black Kingsnake shot out from the end of his wand and landed hard on the moist earth. Hermione backed up a step as it hissed at all of them in turn.

"Hey!" Harry said animatedly. "I feel it!"

"Activate the spell, then," Draco said.

" _Ite_ ," Harry intoned.

The snake vanished in a burst of flame.

"Good work, Potter," Draco said begrudgingly. "The next spell you need to master is the one to mimic human presence. That one will be easy to test. We just have to use _Homenum Revelio_."

"Great. What's the incantation?" Harry was clearly eager to move on so they could get to the Horcrux.

"Hold on, Potter," Draco said. "It's not just about the incantation on this one."

"No?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You have to get the wand movement right as well."

"Show me."

Draco moved to stand right next to Harry and raised his wand. He gave the other boy a derisive look until he adopted the same stance. Then Draco painstakingly led Harry through the sideways figure eight motion that ended with an upward thrust and a downward flick. Harry practiced the movement again and again until Draco was satisfied with its accuracy. Only then did he feel ready to reveal the spell's incantation.

"How do you make the spell mimic multiple people?" Hermione asked.

"It's part of the incantation, actually," Draco told her. "There are the base words, and then you just add the number of people you need. Of course, you have to speak it in Latin or it won't work."

Harry frowned, scrunching his forehead. "I don't speak Latin!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Potter, do you ever think for yourself?"

Hermione smacked his arm. "Be nice, Draco."

"I'll tell you the right word," Draco groused.

"Fine."

" _Replicare Praesentia dualis_." Draco looked at Harry sternly. "Got that?"

Harry nodded. "Should I try it out now?"

Draco gestured with his arm for the boy to continue. Harry did so, and a faint green glow engulfed the small island. Harry lowered his wand and looked at Draco and Hermione somewhat warily. Draco gave Hermione a pointed look.

Luckily, she grasped what Draco was indicating, and intoned, " _Homenum Revelio_." A bright red light appeared in front of Hermione; it separated and formed the silhouettes of five people.

Draco couldn't help but grin. "You got that one done a lot faster than I did, Potter."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You're actually admitting that I did better than you at something?"

"Don't get in the habit of hearing it," Draco replied with a smirk.

Harry rolled his eyes.

The smile that had been gracing Hermione's features dropped away. "I guess it's time to go now, isn't it?"

"I'll go get Ernie, then." Harry Disapparated from the island and wandered back into the center of the DA's camp.

"Are you ready to do this?" Draco asked Hermione softly.

She shook her head. "I haven't been ready for anything we've done this past year, but I'll manage."

Draco fidgeted for a moment before speaking again. "Last night, that question you asked me before we went into my memory…"

Hermione waited for him to continue, but he didn't. "Yes?" she prompted.

"I started to see you differently in third year," he mumbled. "When that hippogriff attacked me, I knew all along that it was my fault, but I acted as horrible as ever and convinced my parents to get it executed. I wanted to humiliate Hagrid."

"I already knew this part, from simple observation," Hermione said lightly.

Draco smirked at her. "As I was saying," he continued, "the way you responded to the whole incident wasn't what I'd expected. I thought perhaps you'd be angry for Potter or Weasley or Hagrid, but instead you were angry for the hippogriff. The way you found it so completely unfair that I was taking advantage of its nature got me thinking." He paused and took a deep breath, raking his hand through his hair. "I'd been taught my whole life that everything and everyone around me was inferior and should be treated as such. Seeing you treat the animal almost as an equal wasn't something I ever thought I'd see, even from supposedly incompetent Muggle-borns."

Hermione folded her arms. "Okay, but how did that get you thinking about anything positive? It seems to me that my actions would only have reinforced your beliefs."

Draco shrugged. "I suppose at first they did. It wasn't until the day of the hippogriff's execution that I really had my eyes opened. When you slapped me, I realized that I wasn't mad at you or even afraid. Rather I admired you for your conviction and strength, and that scared me."

"Okay?"

"I guess that was when I began wondering that if I was capable of feeling something like that towards someone I'd been taught to hate, then maybe my parents were wrong. The more I watched you after that, the more I came to understand that I had been completely blind." Draco took one of Hermione's hands in his.

"There's just one thing I don't understand," Hermione said.

"What?"

She took hold of his left arm and pushed his sleeve up to his elbow, revealing the Dark Mark upon his skin. "Why?" she asked, brushing the fingers of her right hand along the ugly tattoo.

Draco's eyes were hard as steel when he met her gaze. "You don't r _eally_ think I took the Mark because I wanted to?" he demanded.

"I don't know what to think," she whispered. "Harry told me how things ended on the Astronomy tower last year, but I don't really know what you were thinking or feeling at the beginning of the year."

"I was scared out of my mind," he said shakily. "Over the summer, after my father was sent to Azkaban, You-Know-Who wasn't pleased with my mother and I. He told me that I could either take the Mark willingly or watch him kill my mother and then force the Mark on me. The choice at that point wasn't hard." He took both of her hands in his.

Hermione nodded. "I erased my parents' memories to keep them safe, so I understand your decision completely."

"Yes, I remember."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "You shouldn't have had to make that choice." She paused for a long time, rubbing her thumbs back and forth along Draco's knuckles. "Thank you for telling me this, because I can tell it was hard for you. I understand more than ever now that I've misjudged you for a long time."

Draco shrugged. "Not for nothing, though," he reasoned. "I hid what I was thinking and feeling rather well."

Hermione granted him a smile. "You were very convincing."

Draco laughed and pulled her into a hug. He tried to pull back after the briefest of squeezes, but Hermione refused to let him go. So he obligingly wrapped his arms around her waist again and held her close, relishing in the feel of her body pressed against his.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered into his shoulder.

"For what?" Draco asked her hair.

She pulled back and pressed a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I've been so confusing and indecisive since you joined us, and it's very clear to me that you deserve better than that."

Draco shook his head. "Don't apologize. I can't exactly blame you, given the circumstances."

"But that's the thing," Hermione argued. "Too many people have assumed that you're irredeemable, myself included. And I regret that, so I want to apologize."

Draco stared at her while she spoke. When she finally shut her mouth, he made his move. His lips descended upon hers in a kiss far more gentle and meaningful than the previous heated and passionate kisses they'd shared. If she truly thought him worthy of redemption, then he would do his damnedest to deserve it. He was starting to realize that his feelings for her went deeper than a simple crush or even infatuation. But before he acknowledged it and admitted it to her, he was going to do everything he could to deserve her.

The sound of someone clearing his throat jerked Draco back to reality, and he and Hermione sprang apart. Harry was standing there, a wide grin on his face, with Ernie in tow.

"Hey guys," Harry said mischievously. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Sod off, Potter," Draco said good-naturedly. "Can't you see we're busy?"

Hermione smacked his arm. "Oh, knock it off," she laughed. "We have to leave now."

Draco pouted playfully.

"Think of it this way," she said with a wink. "The sooner we retrieve and destroy that Horcrux, the sooner we can pick up where we've left off."

Draco's eyes lit up. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, I take it back, what I said last night. You two were far more tolerable while arguing than you are now."

"We're not nearly as bad as you and Ginny," Hermione taunted.

"Touché," Harry laughed.

Ernie scratched his arm absently. "Shall we go, then?"

"Yes, let's." Harry clapped him on the shoulder. "You okay Apparating?"

Ernie nodded.

"Great."

"Harry, wait!" Hermione grabbed for his arm.

"What?" he asked in alarm.

"I want to be able to stay in touch with you somehow."

Harry frowned. "I don't think that's possible."

"Actually," Ernie interrupted, "I have a way."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were in Hufflepuff."

Ernie cast him a sour look. "Just because I'm in Hufflepuff doesn't mean I'm not intelligent."

"Sorry, that came out wrong. I guess I just thought that spells or contraptions like that could only be used by Ravenclaws. Just goes to show you how little Slytherins think of anyone aside from themselves." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Okay," Ernie said slowly. "Whatever that means." He turned to Harry. "It's not too hard. The idea actually comes from Muggle technology. Their law enforcement people have these cameras that they can hide in clothing or hats or eyeglasses. Terry Boot actually came up with the idea for the spell. Anyway, the point is that you can transfigure a button or something on your shirt to act as a camera; the only difference is that you can have the signal transmitted to a specific person's mind if you want to."

"That really would make me feel much better," Hermione reasoned.

"I have no objections. Draco?" Harry asked.

He shook his head.

"Great." Hermione looked between everyone in the group. "I think, Ernie, that you and Draco should each do it. Harry will need to focus to cast the necessary charms, and I'll need to focus for my task as well."

"That works for me," Ernie said affably.

"Draco?" She turned to him.

"That's fine."

Ernie pulled his wand from his pocket. He twirled it at the top button on his shirt and said, " _Ipcensemerah_."

Draco couldn't detect any difference made to the button until he blinked. When his eyelids were closed, suddenly he could see the group from Ernie's perspective. It was quite discombobulating. Ernie transfigured the top button on Draco's shirt as well.

"It works for me!" he exclaimed, briefly closing his eyes.

"Same here," Draco said.

"Let's get on with it, then," Harry said. "Be safe."

"You too, Harry," Hermione said softly.

Draco took her hand in his, watching as Harry and Ernie Disapparated.

Hermione looked at him nervously. "How will we know when it's safe to go inside?"

Draco closed his eyes.

* * *

 _Harry is pacing around the small field where I just finished pitching the tent. He's still muttering all kinds of spells, as he has been for the last several minutes, but I don't recognize most of them. Now that I'm finished with the tent, I begin stacking dried out branches and twigs in a makeshift fire pit. I fill the bottom with dead leaves and grass, then light the whole thing with my wand._

 _Now that I've done that, I'm supposed to go wait in the tent for Harry. I'm not completely certain what's going on, or even why I'm here, but I gather from Harry's demeanor that it's very important. I need to find out what exactly I've gotten myself into. Instead of ducking into the tent, I approach Harry, where he is casting more spells along the east side of our makeshift camp._

 _"Harry?"_

 _He spins to look at me. "Ernie, you're supposed to be in the tent!"_

 _I shake my head. "No, I'm supposed to be helping you, but I can't do that unless I know what we are doing here."_

 _"Look, I can't really tell you what's going on— "_

 _"Fine, then. I'll just leave you to it." I turn to go._

 _"Wait, Ernie, I wasn't finished." Harry grabs at my sleeve._

 _I face him again and wait for him to continue._

 _"We're acting as a diversion so that Hermione and Draco can retrieve something from where You-Know-Who has been staying. That's the most I can tell you right now."_

 _I nod slowly. "And this something that Hermione's after, it will help take down You-Know-Who?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"You said that they're breaking into the house where You-Know-Who has been staying?"_

 _Harry nods again._

 _"And that we're to be the diversion?"_

 _Another nod._

 _"So you're expecting You-Know-Who to show up here."_

 _Harry doesn't move or speak. That's all the confirmation I need. "Well, then. Wish I'd known that earlier."_

 _"I'm sorry, Ernie. You're the best dueler we've got in the DA, and I really need your help." Harry looks apologetic._

 _"But how are you and I supposed to fight off an army of Death Eaters and You-Know-Who by ourselves? It's a bloody suicide mission!"_

 _"Hermione and Draco shouldn't need much time to retrieve the artifact," Harry says. "We don't have to last for very long. As soon as they're out of the house, we can Apparate back to camp."_

 _"Still— "_

 _"Some of the wards I've been putting up will keep us safe," Harry interrupts. "There are quite a few that are intended to disable any assailants. That will drastically improve our chances."_

 _"We're fighting dirty?" I ask dubiously._

 _"Not really," Harry says. "The magic's not Dark, just not well known. The Death Eaters use them, but only because so few wizards know about them. Especially because none of the spells are considered Dark Magic, I'm only leveling the playing field, perhaps even tilting it in our favor. After all, we have something worth fighting for, and they don't."_

 _Despite my doubts, I feel cheered by Harry's short pep talk. "Okay. I trust you."_

 _Harry grimaces. "Just in time, too. They're here."_

* * *

"Let's go right now," Draco said, grabbing Hermione's hand. "They've left the house and have just arrived at the fake campsite."

Hermione nodded. Draco pulled an old Drooble's gum wrapper from his pocket, and they vanished from the small lake-island. Within seconds, they were inside Snape's house, with the protective wards still intact. The front room was just as Harry described it from his dream. Everything was a dingy shade of grey, as if all color had been leached from their surroundings. Draco wracked his brain, trying to remember which wall housed the hidden staircase. All of them were filled with bookshelves, so there wasn't anything to distinguish the hidden door.

Hermione immediately moved to the right, startling Draco a bit. She pushed on a segment of shelving halfway along the wall there, and the shelf swung outward to reveal the staircase. Draco knew he shouldn't have been surprised; this was Hermione after all. The pair moved up the stairs carefully, still holding hands. The hallway at the top of the stairs was rather small, but it was obvious that Hermione recalled enough of Harry's dream that she knew where to go. They stopped outside of an elegantly carved mahogany door. Hermione reached for the handle.

"Wait!" Draco pulled her back a step. "It's enchanted. Don't touch it."

Hermione frowned at him. "How can you tell?"

"Doors like this are common among Dark wizards," he sighed. "My parents have one back at the Manor."

"What happens if you touch it without removing the wards?"

"Once you touch it, you forget what it was you were looking for, you forget about the door completely, and you are compelled to leave the location where the door is in use." Draco shrugged.

"That's interesting, that the door wouldn't physically harm you," Hermione mused. "It's almost humane."

Draco shook his head in amusement. "Not really. Once a person has come in contact with the enchantment, his memory is permanently affected. He'll start to forget simple things like Apparation or how to ride a broom. Eventually he forgets how to speak or eat or move. It's a slow and frightening death sentence."

"Oh. It's like magically induced Alzheimer's." Hermione's voice was small. "Then I suppose I should thank you for saving my life a third time."

Draco smirked at her. "How exactly did you plan on showing said gratitude?" he asked suggestively.

"Draco!" Hermione looked scandalized.

He laughed at her. "I only meant a kiss, love."

She blushed a bright red. "Oh," she said again.

Draco quickly pressed a kiss to Hermione's cheek, then turned to examine the door again. If this one was anything like the one his father had—and he assumed it was, since Snape had practically worshipped Lucius Malfoy when they were in school—the way through the door was with the simple use of a password.

"I know the man's my godfather and all," Draco said, "but I'm not sure what he might have used for a password."

"It's probably not _Sectumsempra_ ," Hermione said. "Everyone knows that's his favorite curse."

Draco nodded. "And if it had been that, the door would now be open."

Hermione giggled a little. "Page three hundred and ninety-four."

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "Care to explain that one?"

"I was just remembering that time when Snape filled in for Professor Lupin in third year and forced us to read about werewolves instead of what we were scheduled to study next. That was the page number in our textbook."

Draco smiled at the memory. "That's right. He must've said the page number a dozen times that class."

"But it's not the password," Hermione lamented. "Too bad. It might have meant that Snape had some redeeming qualities."

"Hey," Draco said a bit defensively. "He's not all bad. He's my godfather, remember?"

Hermione shrugged noncommittally. Draco glared at her halfheartedly for a moment before turning to the door once more.

"Veritaserum," Draco guessed. Nothing.

"I hate James Potter," Hermione suggested. Nope.

"Draught of Living Death?" No change.

"Powdered Unicorn horn?" Not even a slight breeze.

"Damn," Draco pouted. "It's not like we can name every potion ingredient that ever existed. There's no time for that."

"Besides, he's not that much like Dumbledore was." At the confused look Draco gave Hermione, she elaborated. "He always chose a type of Muggle candy for the password to his office."

"Right."

"What's the password to get past your father's door?"

"Last I knew of it was Salazar Slytherin." But that didn't work either.

"This is so frustrating!" Hermione said, suddenly angry with the entire situation. "Why did You-Know-Who have to kill Lily and James Potter and leave Harry stuck in this stupid mess that— "

Hermione fell silent as the mahogany door swung inward, granting them access to the ballroom. Draco had no idea which word she'd used that opened the door. Surely it wasn't You-Know-Who. What a stupid password, especially for a man that was really a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. That left few real options as to what it could be, since they'd already ruled out James Potter's name. Draco turned to gauge Hermione's reaction. She was staring, dumbfounded, at the open door.

"What is it?"

She shook her head. "Really, the only words I said that seem remotely like a password were Harry and Lily."

The door quietly shut.

Hermione's eyes went even wider. "Lily?" she whispered.

The door opened once more.

"What does this mean?" Draco asked, confused.

"I have no idea."

"Look, we'll have to figure it out later. Right now we've got to retrieve that Horcrux." Draco gently nudged her forward into the room.

Hermione nodded briskly and walked straight to the glass cabinet that held Ravenclaw's diadem.

Draco shut his eyes to check in with Harry.

* * *

 _Harry is right about those wards. I don't see anyone at first, but after he whispers something that sounds like a spell, five Death Eaters are revealed. And then promptly vanish in a puff of fire caused by the spell. It seems a bit Dark to me, but if Harry thinks it's all right, then who am I to question him?_

 _Unfortunately, it seems as though that barrier, or whatever it was, was only good for one use. We are currently surrounded by about twenty other Death Eaters. I glance at Harry, but he doesn't seem worried. He's smirking at them, as if urging them to take a few more steps forward._

 _Bellatrix Lestrange is here, at the head of the group. She gestures for several of the Death Eaters to come and retrieve us. Three steps forward, and the Death Eaters disintegrate and disperse like mist. Red mist. Gross. Bellatrix looks very angry now. She rolls up her left sleeve and presses her right index finger onto her Dark Mark._

 _I look at Harry again. He seems a bit worried now. Can't say I blame him. Isn't that the way to call Voldemort somewhere? Yes. Yes, it is. I know, because the horrifying excuse for a human being is now standing beside Bellatrix. I turn to Harry. What do we do now?_

 _Harry raises his wand. "You can do this," he says softly._

 _I nod. Hopefully it looked convincing, because it sure didn't feel like it was. I raise my wand as well, waiting for Voldemort to begin the battle._

* * *

"Hurry," Draco said urgently. "You-Know-Who is at Harry's camp now."

Hermione sighed. "I'm doing the best I can!"

"Can I do anything to help?" Draco asked.

"Get a basilisk fang ready. I'm not risking taking this thing back to our camp."

Draco watched as Hermione continued to remove wards, curses, and spells from the cabinet. He felt like it was taking too long, and he really didn't want to be the cause of Harry's untimely death. He pulled a basilisk fang from his pocket.

"What else?" Draco asked desperately.

Hermione glanced at him. "I've just got this one that I can't break through," she said, frustrated.

"Trade me places," Draco said.

She stepped back, and Draco handed her the basilisk fang while simultaneously pulling his wand from his pocket. He waved it in front of the cabinet a few times, trying every detecting spell he knew. It was clear that some magical force was still protecting the glass case, but he couldn't figure out what it might be.

"Damn it!" Draco said angrily.

"It's Dark magic, right?" Hermione asked.

Draco nodded.

"Well, a Horcrux is the Darkest magic there is," she said slowly. "If basilisk venom can destroy a Horcrux, do you think it could break through another Dark spell?"

"It's worth a try," Draco said, extending his hand for the fang.

Hermione reluctantly handed it over. "Be careful."

Draco turned to her. "Maybe you should back up a bit, just in case?"

She shook her head stubbornly. "No way. I'm not leaving you."

"All right, then." He rolled his eyes at her obvious streak of Gryffindor courage.

Draco raised the fang and aimed it toward the gleaming silver lock on the front of the cabinet. With all of his strength, he drove it into the metal as far as he could. An explosion of bright purple light blasted him and Hermione off their feet, tossing them like rag dolls to the other side of the room. Shards of glass and bits of heated metal flew through the air around them, destroying much of the furniture in the room. The last thing Draco thought before falling unconscious was that his godfather was going to kill him for making such a mess.

* * *

 _"Harry Potter," Voldemort sneers. "You seem to be missing a few of your usual sidekicks."_

 _Harry glares at him. "They're not missing, Tom," he says evenly. "You just can't see them."_

 _I raise my eyebrows. That's an interesting way of putting it. "We're not afraid of you," I say loudly._

 _Voldemort turns to me. "Oh? I suppose you're a stupid Gryffindor, too?"_

 _I stand up a bit straighter. "Hufflepuff, actually. But that doesn't make me a coward."_

 _"Maybe it should," Voldemort says, rolling his terrible red eyes._

 _"Enough, Tom!" Harry says. "How did you find us?"_

 _I know enough about the situation now to realize that he's stalling for time. And that he somehow fed the fake information to Voldemort. Well done._

 _"I'm not usually in the habit of monologuing about my evil exploits, but I'll indulge you this time, as it'll be the last thing you ever hear anyway." Voldemort grins maliciously. "That idiot friend of yours, the one that may as well be a Squib. Longbottom, I believe his name is. He left a very important galleon in his dormitory, one that your Mudblood apparently enchanted. Severus Snape found it."_

 _Harry widens his eyes, and I'm certain he's faking shock. I decide to join in. "That's a lie! Neville would never do something so stupid!" There, that sounded good._

 _"Au contraire, little badger," Voldemort says without breaking Harry's gaze. "He did. And soon after Severus found the coin, a message appeared on it with this location. Looks like your friends aren't so loyal after all."_

 _Voldemort is boasting. It's actually a bit funny to think about, considering that it's all pretend. The man really thinks he's beaten Harry._

 _Voldemort slowly raises his wand and aims at Harry. "You have been a thorn in my side for far too long, boy."_

 _Harry raises an eyebrow. "One might say the same about you."_

 _Voldemort looks around at all of his Death Eaters. "Leave these two imbeciles to me, but do not let them escape, or you will live to regret it."_

 _The assembled Death Eaters nod in compliance._

 _"We can do this the easy way," Voldemort says, "or we can do this my way."_

 _"I prefer to do this the way where I come out alive," Harry says amiably._

 _Part of me is astounded at his brazenness, but this is Harry Potter. He's not easily discouraged from doing dangerous things._

 _"Harry, Harry, Harry," Voldemort chides. "I think we've spent enough time talking."_

 _Without further warning, Voldemort sends a blast of hot yellow light at us. I scramble to my right while Harry ducks and rolls to the left. We both just barely manage to avoid the spell that sends our tent up in flames. Harry gets back to his feet and wordlessly tries to disarm You-Know-Who. Unfortunately, the snake-man very easily bats the spell aside with a wave of his wand. Right now, he looks as though he's a horse with a mildly annoying fly buzzing around his head. I'd hate to see how he looks when he's really pissed off._

 _I suppose we don't have a choice but to make him angry, though, for as long as we can. But the time for wordplay is over. So I raise my wand and send Jelly-Legs Jinxes at every Death Eater in my line of sight. They fall to the ground comically. Voldemort glares at them as if to say that they were stupid to let me get the better of them, but that they ought to stay out of his way._

 _While he's distracted, Harry hits him with a Stinging Hex. Voldemort is too slow to deflect it, and it hits him square in the face. He howls, more in frustration I think than in actual pain. Before I can even blink, Voldemort swipes his wand in the air in front of him, and Harry is blasted off his feet. He crashes into the smoldering remains of the tent and is still. This doesn't bode well for me. I shakily raise my wand. I can't give up now._

* * *

Draco groaned and clutched at his head. That went terribly wrong. He shifted to his knees and looked around for Hermione. She was sitting up, a little bleary-eyed; there was a mean-looking gash across her left cheek. Hermione waved a hand at him to indicate that she was just fine, thank you very much, and that Draco should continue what he'd started. But he didn't heed her, instead making his way through the rubble in the room to kneel at her side.

"I'm fine," she said adamantly, wiping at a streak of blood sliding down Draco's forehead.

"We should get out of here," he said lowly.

She opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the loud, angry sounds of several people returning to the house. She stared at Draco in surprise, a bit of fear tingeing the color of her irises. Draco quickly stood and tried to shield her with his body, but was just a bit too slow.

Voldemort burst into the room, several Death Eaters in his wake, his red eyes blazing with fury. "You!" he screeched upon seeing Draco.

"Oh, hello," Hermione said.

Voldemort glared at her. "You will not speak to me, you filthy Mudblood!"

Hermione shrugged.

This response appeared to only anger Voldemort further. He twirled his wand in a rather delicate motion. The spell that he evoked wasn't nearly as gentle as the action indicated it might be. Hermione's head was thrown back harshly. Large red welts began forming on her neck, and she slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Draco scowled at Voldemort.

But Voldemort's wand was already pointing at Draco's heart. " _Avada_ — "

Feeling a bit reckless, Draco pantomimed tipping a hat towards Voldemort. "Sorry to steal and run, but we've got better places to be."

He hastily approached the glass cabinet, startled to realize the glass had all shattered. There was a fine, glittering layer of dust coating the shelves and floor around the cabinet. He reached in and grabbed the diadem from where it sat on the velvet cushion just as a flash of bright green light zoomed past his head.

This time, Draco was too fast. With the diadem dangling from his wrist like a bracelet, he ran back to Hermione and took her hand, then shoved his right hand into his pocket where the Drooble's gum wrapper Portkey was waiting. With a sudden tugging sensation, Draco and Hermione were whisked away from Snape's house and Voldemort.


	14. Repurcussions

Chapter Fourteen: Repercussions

* * *

Draco landed hard on his back on the lake-island where the day had begun. Hermione was sprawled beside him, the welts on her neck incredibly still rising. What the hell did Voldemort hit her with? Fortunately, he still had the diadem around his wrist. Draco stared at the—literally—cursed thing, at once certain that he wanted to destroy tit and certain that he didn't want to be the one to actually commit the deed.

Another glance at Hermione made the decision for him. The blasted Horcrux could wait. Draco pulled out his wand, shrunk the diadem down to the size of a ring, and slipped it into his pocket. Without further hesitation, he picked Hermione up and Apparated them both to the white tent that acted as the infirmary in the camp. Ron was awake when they popped into the space, though he looked weary and in pain.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy! What happened?" Ron made as if to jump to his feet, but wound up cringing in pain instead.

"Curse," Draco ground out. "Where's that girl who was treating you last night?"

"Er," Ron murmured. "Dunno."

Draco rolled his eyes and gently lowered Hermione to another cot in the tent. "What's her name?" he asked, fighting for patience.

"Hannah Abbott. But Neville's better at healing spells."

Draco whirled around and left the tent. Fortunately, he spotted Neville a few feet ahead of him, talking with a small group of younger students.

"Longbottom!"

Neville turned sharply, looking worried at the tone of his voice. "Malfoy?"

"Hermione, she's hurt. I don't know with what." Draco was fighting the look of panic that wanted to stain his features.

Neville looked back at the other students around him. "Elsie, please go find Hannah for me. I may need her help."

The girl nodded and ran off, leaving Neville free to accompany Draco to the infirmary tent.

"Tell me what happened," Neville ordered.

"It was You-Know-Who. He caught us at Snape's house, stealing the Horcrux, and he hit her with the curse." Draco spit out hurriedly.

By then they were in the tent, and Neville was leaning over Hermione, carefully examining the welts along her neck. "Do you recall his wand movement?" Neville sounded clinical and detached.

Draco thought frantically. "It was odd, like he was drawing a picture instead of casting a curse. He made a sort of half-moon shape, I guess."

Neville nodded. "What else did the curse do besides leave the welts?"

"Her head snapped back, like she'd been hit in the face with a Bludger."

"Shit," Neville murmured.

"What? What is it?" Ron yelled anxiously from his cot.

"Longbottom?" Draco asked.

"It sounds a hell of a lot like the Flaming Suffocation Curse. It's not good." Neville looked intently at him. "How long has she been like this?"

"Maybe ten, fifteen minutes. Why?" Draco couldn't look away from Hermione's prone form.

"We have to hurry. This curse typically takes thirty minutes to run its course." Neville began rummaging through the boxes and drawers scattered throughout the tent.

"Or what?" Ron yelped. No answer. "Or _what_ , Neville?"

Draco leveled his gaze at the redhead. "You know what, Weasley."

Ron dropped his head into his hands.

"What do we do, Longbottom?"

Neville ran back over with a book on counter-curses, already open to the page he needed. "I need Hannah in here. Now. She knows where to get the Immortelle flower that I need to fix this."

Draco ran back out of the tent. He scanned the camp from left to right, desperately hoping to see the girl healer. When mere glances proved unhelpful (as they were wont to do), he took off for the north end of camp.

"Hannah? Hannah Abbott?"

People in the camp stared at him. They pointed and whispered as he ran past.

"Has anyone seen Hannah Abbott? She's needed in the infirmary tent!"

But nobody responded to his pleas. Draco didn't have time to waste trying to convince his camp-mates of his helpfulness or sincerity. He ran back to the white tent and burst through the opening, panting his words at Neville.

"Longbottom, I don't know where the girl is. You'll have to send me."

Neville took a deep breath. "Immortelle flower, or Helichrysum angustifolium, is extremely hard to find in England. However, Hannah discovered a patch of the flowers on the northern end of Snowdonia National Park, on the coast near Deganwy."

"What does it look like?"

"Hurry, Nev! We're running out of time!" Ron insisted.

Neville rolled his eyes a bit. "It's a bright yellow flower, and they grow in clumps." He paused for a moment. "Have you ever eaten an eggroll before?"

Draco stared at him. "I'm a wizard, not a dinosaur. Of course I've eaten eggrolls. What has that got to do with anything?"

"That's a bit what the flower looks like: a miniature eggroll, but a light yellowish color, and the bright yellow petals look like small cauliflower."

"Okay." Draco took a step towards the exit, then turned back. "Neville. Keep her alive."

Neville looked a bit startled at being addressed by his first name, but Draco was gone before he noticed. He quickly Apparated to the heart of the small seaside town in Wales. Draco didn't allow himself time to stress out over the exact location of the Immortelle flower; he just rushed to the nearest ocean overlook point. He ended up walking west along the coast, searching every square foot for a glimpse of the elusive life-saving flower. The longer it took him, the more anxious he became. Hermione's life was ticking away.

Just when he was about to give up and return to her—he needed to be at her side when she died—a flutter of yellow danced in the corner of his vision. He spun toward the color, and there it was: the Immortelle flower, the thing that had the potential to save Hermione's life. Draco grabbed fistfuls of the flower and Apparated back to the infirmary tent in the DA's camp.

"Malfoy!" Neville nearly shouted. "Hurry!"

Draco hurried over to Hermione's side, belatedly noticing that Hannah had finally made an appearance. As Neville took the flowers from him, Hannah took over the job of muttering the counter-curse over Hermione's still body.

"How long do we have?" Draco asked softly.

"It's been fifteen minutes since Neville figured out what curse You-Know-Who used," Ron said lowly.

Draco's eyes widened. "What? Then that means…" He trailed off and dodged past Hannah to get a better look at Hermione.

She was pale; the welts on her neck stood out in stark contrast, looking almost purple. Hermione was lying completely still aside from the shallow rising and falling of her chest. Draco could tell that, even in her unconscious state, she was struggling to breathe. Her lips were turning blue. He picked up her hand, frightened as he noted that it was as cold as ice.

"Please don't leave me," he whispered.

"Move!" Neville bellowed, shoving Draco aside. He held two small bowls and handed one of them to Draco. "Put this on her neck. Hurry."

Draco looked at the gooey cream-colored paste in the bowl, then hastily began dabbing it on the welts covering Hermione's neck. Neville, meanwhile, had instructed Hannah to tilt Hermione's head back and open her mouth. Then he poured the lemonade-colored liquid in his bowl down her throat. With a brief wave of his wand, Neville forced Hermione to swallow.

"Well?" Draco asked.

Neville wiped his forehead. "I've done all I can," he said. "We were close, but I think we got the antidote to her in time."

"Now what?" Ron asked.

"We wait," Neville said softly. "If it worked, she should be awake within the hour."

"I suppose I don't need to ask what happens if it didn't work," Ron muttered.

Neville looked at Draco and Ron with a grim smile on his face before turning and leaving the tent. Sighing, Draco pulled up a stool and sat beside Hermione's cot, once again clutching at her hand. The tent was silent but for their breathing.

"Malfoy, where's Harry?" Ron asked finally.

Draco's head snapped up. "You mean they're not back?"

Ron shook his head.

"Shit." He jumped up and began pacing back and forth.

"What?"

"If You-Know-Who showed up just as Hermione and I were leaving Snape's house, and Potter and Macmillan aren't back yet, what logical conclusion do you come to?" Draco snapped.

"No," Ron whispered, shaking his head. "I refuse to believe it."

"I'll have to go looking for them," Draco muttered. He spun around and marched to the entrance of the tent.

"Don't worry," Ron called out. "I'll keep an eye on Hermione."

Draco turned around and took the diadem from his pocket, then tossed it at Ron. He caught it easily. "Take care of that, will you?"

Ron nodded.

Draco shoved his way out of the tent and Apparated to the location that Harry had planned to use. The campfire had gone out, leaving half-charred sticks poking out of the ground. The tent was burned to nothing but scraps of canvas and ash. There was nobody around. The worst part, Draco thought, was that the Anti-Apparation ward had apparently been deactivated. He'd been able to access the exact site of the camp; if Harry had managed to keep the wards up, Draco would have bounced to the area outside of the ward, then been forced to walk the rest of the way in. With the ward down, it either meant that Harry had removed it purposefully or that he was dead.

Draco quickly cast an alteration of _Homenum Revelio_ to determine that there were no hostiles in the immediate vicinity, then began searching for the missing pair. "Potter!"

No answer.

"Harry!"

Still nothing.

"Damn it!"

Draco stomped around the ruined camp, completely at a loss, and frustrated beyond belief. As he approached the tent on the south side, he noticed an imprint in the ash and canvas. He knelt down to examine it closer, brushing his fingers around the outside of the vague shape. Draco squinted, trying to force the sight to make sense. And then it hit him: a person had been lying here among the ashes. But it looked like they had been gone for quite some time. He scratched the back of his neck.

When You-Know-Who had arrived back at Snape's house, he hadn't brought any prisoners. But Harry and Ernie were nowhere in sight, which indicated that they hadn't just been murdered. That wasn't even factoring in the lack of the Dark Mark in the sky. So where the hell were they? It made no sense.

"Potter!" Draco tried calling out again.

Once again, there was not a reply. Draco stormed into the small wooded area to the east of the camp. Maybe Scarhead and his new sidekick had taken refuge in there somewhere. The trees were thick, blocking out most of the light beneath their boughs. The atmosphere in the woods was significantly more menacing than the camp and field beyond that had been. Draco almost expected Death Eaters to jump out at him from every shadow. A rustling to his left made Draco jump and whip out his wand. He peered into the darkness warily.

When he still couldn't discern any shapes or movement in the area, he lit his wand with a whispered, " _Lumos_." The beam of light nearly blinded Draco, but he pressed forward. He shoved aside drooping branches and dangling ivy, forcing his way through the foreboding trees. He walked for what felt like an hour before deciding to give up and search in the other direction.

And then a small log cabin materialized, seemingly out of nowhere. One moment Draco was walking through the trees, staring at only more trees ahead, and then the log cabin was practically beneath his nose. He almost walked right into the front door, it appeared so quickly. From inside the strange cabin, Draco heard voices muttering softly. He had no clue who was hiding within, but he wasn't about to knock on the door politely. He was looking for two missing people, for Salazar's sake! One of which was meant to be the savior of the Wizarding world. He didn't have time for trivialities like politeness or courtesy. Draco kicked the door open and barged inside.

Harry's head snapped up at the sudden noise, then he winced as if the movement hurt. Draco examined the one room inside the cabin. Harry was sitting on a hard-looking wooden chair, clutching his right leg with both hands. Ernie was lying on the floor, looking on the verge of unconsciousness.

"Malfoy!"

"Potter, what the hell happened to the two of you?" Draco demanded.

Harry did his best to roll his eyes. "We were attacked by You-Know-Who."

Draco waved his hand. "After that."

"Well, er— " Harry locked eyes with Ernie. "I don't really know."

"How can you not know? You were there!"

Ernie lifted his head up to get a better look at Draco. "He was unconscious for a good while," he explained.

Draco motioned for him to continue.

"Well, first Bellatrix and a bunch of Death Eaters showed up. The wards did what they were supposed to, but Bellatrix didn't like that we were winning, so she summoned You-Know-Who from wherever it was he'd been waiting. After a few spells each, You-Know-Who knocked me unconscious, and I didn't wake up till we were here," Harry explained in a scratchy voice.

"Macmillan?"

With a deep groan, Ernie shoved himself into a sitting position. He winced and clutched at his stomach before speaking. "You-Know-Who did some serious damage when he knocked Harry unconscious. Of course, I knew I had to get Harry out of there alive; it was my job. Anyway, I kept fighting, but I knew I wouldn't last against You-Know-Who. I figured that the only way out of the situation alive was to outsmart the guy."

Draco nodded. "So why did the two of you wind up in this cabin instead of back at the DA's camp?"

Ernie raised an eyebrow at him, as if to suggest that the answer was obvious. "Harry was still out cold. I'd never done Side-Along Apparation before, and I wasn't about to attempt it with an unconscious person. So I shot a fireball at some of the Death Eaters next to You-Know-Who. It distracted him long enough for me to transfigure Harry into an acorn and myself into a squirrel. Then I picked him up and darted into the forest."

"Which is why you're so exhausted now," Draco surmised. "Wordless transfiguration is incredibly difficult."

Ernie smiled weakly. "Tell me about it."

"Can we get out of here now?" Harry asked quietly.

Draco didn't respond, but did move to stand beside the table that Harry sat at. He pulled the gum wrapper from his pocket, pointed his wand at it, and muttered, " _Portus_." He gestured for Harry and Ernie to join him, and they each placed a finger upon the wax paper. Milliseconds later, they were standing inside the infirmary tent.

"Harry! Ernie! Thank God!" Ron cried upon spotting them.

"What am I?" Draco muttered under his breath. "Chopped liver?"

He was startled when a small hand touched his elbow. He spun around to see that Hermione, while still looking worse for wear, was awake again. Draco moved closer and knelt on the floor of the tent beside her.

"Are you all right?" he whispered, not wanting to interrupt the conversation that Harry, Ron, and Ernie were having.

Hermione nodded carefully. She opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it and, instead, raised her eyebrows questioningly while pointing to Draco.

"Am I all right?" he guessed, thinking perhaps she wasn't supposed to speak yet, due to the damage the curse had caused.

Hermione nodded again.

"I'm fine," he answered. "Just completely exhausted. Been a long day."

Hermione smiled.

Draco pressed a soft kiss to her lips, and was about to deepen it, when a crash sounded behind him, followed by two horrified yells. He spun around. Harry and Ron were staring in shock at Ernie, who had collapsed to the floor, and was currently writhing around. Blood was dripping from his mouth and nose.

"What happened?" Draco shouted.

"I don't know!" Harry said frantically. "One minute he was fine, and then he just dropped to the ground!"

Draco looked around the tent, but nothing in the room stuck out to him as being particularly useful (aside from anything that might catch the blood). He looked closer at Ernie. His skin was taking on a greyish tinge, his lips and fingertips were turning blue, and his breathing was coming in shallow gasps. He was obviously in a tremendous amount of pain. Draco frowned when he understood what was happening.

Without consulting anyone, Draco moved over to where Ernie was still thrashing, and pointed his wand at the other boy's forehead. With a muttered, " _Legilimens_ ," he was looking into Ernie's most recent memories.

* * *

 _Voldemort looks beyond peeved. I'm worried about Harry, but I'm barely keeping myself alive right now, let alone another person. I cast another wordless Shield Spell to block Voldemort's careless Cruciatus Curse. I do a little jig in place, beginning to laugh. The crazy old snake doesn't seem to have very good dueling skills after all._

 _"Come on," I taunt. "Can't the big bad Dark Lord defeat an itty bitty Hufflepuff?"_

 _Voldemort scowls at me and whips his wand through the air. I dodge the blast of silver light, still cackling with glee. Too late, I realize the elaborate spell was simply a diversion. His next spell hits me square in the chest. I freeze in place, waiting for something terrible to happen to me. But nothing changes._

 _"I think your spell stopped working!" I call out._

 _"Not for long," Voldemort sneers. He sounds too self-assured for my liking._

 _It's time to end this. I swipe my wand in an arc, sending a fireball at the group of Death Eaters standing closest to Voldemort. They scatter, and Voldemort turns his back on me so he can properly scold his minions for being afraid of a simple schoolboy (I believe he means me)._

 _Thinking fast, I wordlessly transfigure Harry into an acorn, then myself into a squirrel. In my small mammalian form, I am able to snatch up the Acorn-that-is-Harry and bolt for the line of trees behind our fake camp. Just as I enter the trees, I hear Voldemort's scream of rage._

* * *

Draco pulled out of Ernie's memory, then turned to face the Golden Trio. "You-Know-Who got him."

The foolish boy had neglected to inform him of the curse that hit him in the chest. Of course, he may have thought the spell hadn't worked, because Draco knew it didn't take complete effect for at least ninety minutes.

Harry frowned. "But we're nowhere near the git," he protested.

Draco sighed. "I know. A while back, he developed a curse that appears innocent at first, but then essentially melts your internal organs after an hour and a half. I checked Ernie's memory. That's what happened."

Hermione covered her face with both of her hands, a strangled choking sound escaping her.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, hurrying to her side.

She lowered her hands, looked briefly to Ernie's now-still body, then made eye contact with Draco and pointed to herself.

"It's not your fault!" Draco said vehemently.

Hermione nodded sadly.

"No, it's not!" he insisted. "You merely suggested Ernie's name. Ultimately he's the one that chose to help."

Hermione didn't appear to be reassured. She shook her head.

"Besides," Draco said, trying to cheer her up somewhat, "the rest of us weren't hit with that curse. Nobody else has to die."

Hermione didn't respond, but laid back down on her cot and rolled over so she was facing away from everyone else. Draco decided to let her be for a few minutes. She'd stop blaming herself once reason returned.

"Why isn't she talking?" he whispered to Ron.

Ron shrugged uncomfortably. "Neville couldn't figure it out. He thinks it might be a side effect of the curse she was hit with, but he couldn't find anything in his book about it."

Harry looked at Draco sharply. "She got hit with a curse?"

Draco nodded. "But she's alive."

"True."

"What are we going to do about Ernie?" Ron asked shakily.

Draco stared numbly at the boy's body on the floor. "I don't know."

"We're going to win this war," Harry said ferociously. "For Ernie and all the other people that have died for the cause."

Typical Potter was always preaching; it rather irked Draco, especially then.

That night, Harry wrote a letter to Ernie's parents, explaining what had happened and how heroic their son had been. In the morning, everyone at the DA's camp gathered by the nearby lake to send it off. Harry had transfigured Ernie's body into a pocket watch and included it with the letter, along with instructions on how to return Ernie to his true state. People scattered throughout the crowd could be heard crying over the loss of their friend.

Hermione, who was standing beside Draco as they watched the messenger owl fly away, took Draco's hand and squeezed it. Draco looked down at her worriedly, but she still had her eyes on the sky. He squeezed her hand in reply.

"Ernie didn't deserve to die," Harry intoned. "I swear to all of you that his death will not have been in vain."

There were murmurs of agreement among the crowd.

"There's just one more thing that I— "

Harry stopped speaking when a clear glass orb descended from the sky to hover in front of his face. It pulsed flashes of green, purple, red, and orange light. Draco stared at the strange orb, wondering what it could be and who had sent it. The woods fell deathly silent when a familiar voice hissed from its depths.

"Harry Potter."

The crowd gasped in horrified recognition.

"The time has come to end this. You have been running for far too long, and I no longer wish to chase you. You will meet me in one week's time where our story began. Come to Godric's Hollow alone, and I promise to be merciful to your foolishly loyal friends. Come to Godric's Hollow, or I promise that everyone you care about will meet a most painful and untimely death."


	15. The Summoning

Chapter Fifteen: The Summoning

* * *

A hush descended over the group, soon followed by loud and frightened chattering. Draco gripped Hermione's hand, letting that be the only way that he displayed his own emotion at the sudden turn of events. Harry, still standing at the front of the crowd, looked half panicked and half resigned. After taking a deep breath, Harry finally readdressed his peers.

"I suppose that's it, then," he sighed.

Hermione yanked her hand from Draco's and stormed up to face Harry. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him.

Harry's shoulders slumped. "Hermione, don't look at me like that."

"She's right, mate," Ron said, hobbling his way forward. "We've been with you from the start, and if you think for one damn minute that we—that your _friends_ —are just going to let you run off and lay yourself at You-Know-Who's feet, you are sorely mistaken." He gestured to everyone gathered around them. "These people are on your side, Harry. And we are not naïve enough to believe that You-Know-Who will really spare us if you sacrifice yourself. Don't be stupid."

Hermione nodded firmly, clearly agreeing with Ron's assessment of the situation.

"Yeah!" someone further back in the crowd shouted.

"What would Ernie've done, eh?" another person called.

Several people tittered in agreement.

"You honestly have no right to make this decision for everyone, Harry," Neville said, also stepping forward. "Yes, you may be the one that will ultimately defeat You-Know-Who, but you will not be able to do it alone. You need us just as much as we need you."

"But— " Harry started.

"Look, Potter," Draco finally interrupted, pushing his way through the crowd. "Even _I_ am on your side. If I found it in me to help you, a person that I've despised for years, then don't I deserve the chance to help take down the Dark Lord once and for all? Longbottom's right. You can't do it alone. The good news is that none of us expected you to."

Harry straightened his shoulders, a reluctant grin spreading across his face. "Damn the lot of you for not letting me get myself killed," he said jokingly.

Hermione looked intently at Harry and raised her hands skyward in a gesture of question.

"What now?" Harry asked Hermione. She nodded. "Well, there's not enough of us here to take on You-Know-Who and his army of Death Eaters. We need the Order. And anyone else you can think of that will help." He folded his arms resolutely.

Neville fished something out of his pocket. "I'm going to contact all the older members of the DA." With a quick press on his shimmering galleon, his task was completed.

"Malfoy, how many of the professors at school were still loyal to Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

Draco frowned. "Well, now that we know Snape is a spy, I'd say all of them aside from the Carrows."

"Ron, can you go inform the professors that we need their help? Maybe they'll have other ideas as well."

Ron nodded. "I'm on it."

"Great. Hermione, you knew Grawp the best. Would you be willing to go find him in the Forbidden Forest and ask him if he'll help? See if you can track down the centaurs, too. Maybe some of the other inhabitants of the forest will be on our side."

Hermione looked at Harry incredulously. When he didn't appear to get the idea, she gestured vehemently to her throat.

"She can't speak, Potter," Draco reminded him.

Harry grimaced. "Right. Ron, would you go with her? You'll be in the area."

Ron nodded. "Absolutely. Do we meet back here or at Godric's Hollow?"

Harry's eyes widened. "That's another thing! I need someone to go inform the residents of the impending battle. They need to evacuate."

Luna raised her hand. "I'll do it," she said vaguely.

"Thank you, Luna. And everyone, meet back here."

The requested helpers and volunteers Apparated to their respective locations. Draco was about to return to the infirmary tent when Harry turned to face him. His expression was gravely serious.

"What is it, Potter?" Draco asked exasperatedly.

"Would you be willing to accompany me? It would do you well for the Order to know you're not to be a target during the fight." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You make a good point," Draco answered.

"I also need to stop back by Grimmauld Place."

"Grimmauld Place?" Draco asked. "The Black home?"

Harry nodded. "Or, at least, it used to be. Sirius left it to me, and it was the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix until this year."

"My mother was a Black," Draco mused quietly.

"That's right," Harry said. "I don't know how I forgot. Sirius always said he hated growing up with Bellatrix for company."

"It's official: the Wizarding world is too small. Anyone with any old magical blood is related somehow. Did you know I'm technically Weasel's cousin?" Draco stated.

"What?" Harry exclaimed.

"Yeah," Draco sighed melodramatically. "It is rather tragic, isn't it?"

Harry chuckled. "I promise not to tell Ron you said that."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Okay. Are we going to leave or what?"

"Yeah, let's."

Harry placed his hand on Draco's shoulder, and they Apparated out of camp. When Draco's balance had stabilized and his vision had stopped spinning, he took in their surroundings. They were by a neat seaside cottage. It was quaint, painted white, and surrounded by a dainty white picket fence.

"Welcome to Shell Cottage," Harry said. "Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

Remus Lupin opened the door before they had the chance to knock. "Harry? What are you doing here? And with Mr. Malfoy, no less?"

"I suppose you won't have heard, then," Harry sighed. "Ron, Hermione, and I were captured by Snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor. He rescued us and has been helping us on the hunt for the Horcruxes."

Lupin inclined his head, scrutinizing Draco intently. "I see."

"Professor Lupin," Draco tried respectfully.

Lupin narrowed his eyes. "Why did you bring him to Headquarters?" he asked Harry.

"Figured I'd need him to convince the lot of you that I'm serious." Harry folded his arms.

"Suppose you'd better come in, then. We're actually in the middle of a meeting now." Lupin opened the door wider and gestured for the boys to enter.

Draco looked around as they made their way through the smallish cottage to the back garden. It was just as dainty inside as it appeared to be on the outside. The furnishings were obviously well used, and often repurposed, but gave the cottage a unique and tasteful décor. He'd never admit it, but Draco thought he might like living in a smaller home. It felt cozy, whereas the Manor and its expensive furnishings felt cavernous and unwelcoming.

The back garden had a perfect view of the ocean, and extended out into the sand that made up the beach. The sight was enough to officially convince Draco that he wanted a home just like it someday. Of course, the group gathered in the garden quickly shifted his thoughts to more pressing matters. Such as whether or not he'd leave Shell Cottage with all of his limbs intact.

"Oh, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley jumped up from her wicker chair and embraced Harry tightly. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"Where they are isn't the important thing right now," Harry said. He was about to continue when Mrs. Weasley noticed his companion.

"What are you doing here?" she asked Draco venomously.

"I, er…" Draco mumbled.

"Mrs. Weasley, please. I'll explain everything." Harry ushered her back to her seat.

Relieved at not having to face the confrontation, Draco scanned the people assembled in the garden. Mr. Weasley was next to his wife; another redhead (Draco assumed was one of their sons) with long hair and a pierced ear sat next to that glorious blonde from Beauxbatons Academy, the one who'd been Triwizard Champion for her school. Beyond them, Draco recognized his cousin Nymphadora Tonks (he'd heard she had married Professor Lupin) holding a newborn baby boy. He also noticed Kingsley Shacklebolt, a man who'd previously worked for the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts' groundskeeper Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, another likely Weasley (this one stocky and covered in burn scars), an old woman he recognized as Neville's gran, Oliver Wood, and another old woman who smelled like boiled cabbage and cats. All in all, Draco thought them more a ragtag group of misfits than an organized rebellion.

"Now, what's the story, Harry?" Kingsley Shacklebolt rumbled.

Harry pulled up two empty chairs and sat in one of them. "It's rather a long one, Kingsley," he said, "and there's really not time to tell it all now. Just know that Malfoy here has saved my life several times over, as well as Ron's and Hermione's. He's defected from the Death Eaters and has been helping me to defeat You-Know-Who."

"But how can you be certain?" Mr. Weasley asked. "We were all fooled by Snape, and look how that turned out."

"About that," Draco started as he sat in the other chair. He snapped his mouth shut again at the glares he received from the people surrounding him.

"Look," Harry said loudly. "You all don't have to trust Malfoy, but please trust me. I know what I'm talking about. As for Snape, he's still on our side as well."

"Impossible!" shouted the woman who smelled of cabbage. "He murdered Dumbledore!"

Harry sighed. "Mrs. Figg, please trust me. Hermione heard it straight from Dumbledore's portrait in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts: Dumbledore asked Snape to do it for two reasons. First, he was already dying from a curse he'd received while defeating one of You-Know-Who's Horcruxes."

"What's a Hor— " Mrs. Figg started.

Harry raised a hand to silence her. "Later, I promise. Second, Dumbledore had Snape do it so that Malfoy wouldn't have to. He believed in Malfoy and wanted to give him a chance." He looked around at everyone. "I promise I'll tell you all the long version of the story later. Right now I need your help. You-Know-Who has summoned me for a final stand in Godric's Hollow. He warned me to come alone, but I know I can't defeat him without all of you. I also know you wouldn't want me to try and take him on alone anyway."

There were murmurs of agreement from the group around them.

"Do you have a plan, Harry?" Tonks asked.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the turquoise-haired woman. "Yeah, you're staying home. You've my godson to care for."

Tonks glowered back at him. "I've also got a mother who can watch him while I kick some Death Eater ass!"

"Nymphadora!" Mrs. Weasley said. "Watch your language!"

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Molly, it's not as if Harry and Malfoy don't know the word, and Teddy won't even remember."

Mrs. Weasley clucked her tongue. "It's the principle of the thing, dear."

"Anyway," Harry interrupted, "do whatever you have to, Tonks. But I'm sure there's more than one of us here who'd prefer you stay home with Teddy. What if something were to happen to Lupin, or Merlin forbid, the both of you?"

Lupin nodded. "He's right."

Tonks looked at her husband imploringly. "I can't just sit at home while you're out there risking your life. Please don't ask me to."

Lupin sighed, with a look of defeat on his face that rivaled the one he'd worn when he'd seen Draco on the doorstep. "I know you can't. It's not in your nature. You know I'd stay behind too if I felt like I could. But James and Lily and Sirius…I owe them justice."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'll still be there, Remus. I've sworn vengeance for their deaths just as much as you. Does it really matter who exacts it, so long as it's achieved?"

Draco scanned the group again. At this point, he didn't think he could keep quiet any longer. "Look, Potter, I know it's important to you that the kid has his parents around. I understand, really. But will we even stand a chance with our numbers as few as they already are? I don't think we can afford for two more people to sit this one out."

Harry pursed his lips in thought. Draco grinned when he caught the grateful look his cousin threw his way. He was right, after all.

"Then I leave the decision to each of you alone. Do what you have to." Harry took a deep breath. "I've got Luna Lovegood evacuating Godric's Hollow as we speak. I was hoping that the lot of you, plus anyone else we can gather, will act as the residents in an attempt to fool You-Know-Who."

"Zat ees a good idea, Harry," the gorgeous blonde woman said. "Eef you want, I can see eef zere is anyone at Beauxbatons that could help."

"Thank you, Fleur. That'd be brilliant."

"Potter, is there anyone else that might help us that isn't officially in the Order?" Draco asked.

Mrs. Longbottom cleared her throat. "I've quite a few contacts throughout Britain that I know are itching for a bite out of You-Know-Who's hide. I'll gather as many as I can."

Harry smiled in relief. "I think we might actually manage to do this."

"When do we start?" asked the long-haired Weasley.

"As soon as possible. You-Know-Who told me to meet him in one week, but if we can be ready before then, he may not know what's hit him."

"Very good," Mrs. Figg said. "I'll go help Miss Lovegood immediately, if someone would be so kind as to escort me to Godric's Hollow."

"I'll take you," Mrs. Longbottom said. "It's on my way to see Muriel anyway."

Harry frowned at her. "Muriel? As in Aunt Muriel?"

Mrs. Longbottom nodded. "Of course. You didn't really think a feisty old woman like her would sit out a fight like this one, did you?"

Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Honestly, nobody would be able to keep the woman at home, even if they'd Petrified her and tied her to her rocker."

Harry smiled. "Thank you so much. All of you."

"Are you sure you don't have time to sit for tea, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "You could give us the shortened version of your story."

Harry looked at Draco. Draco shrugged. They did have time, it seemed. "All right, then."

"Fabulous."

* * *

After a very slow trek across the grounds, Ron finally limped his way through the front doors of the school, with Hermione close on his heels. Almost immediately, Peeves swooped down on them.

"If it isn't Ickle Ronniekins and his bushy-haired girlie!" the poltergeist cackled.

Hermione folded her arms and glared sullenly at him.

Ron rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Hullo, Peeves. Been up to any great mischief lately?"

"Not as much as you, I hear." Peeves somersaulted in the air. "Bet you didn't know your little stunt in the Room of Requirement got two professors dead, didja?"

"What?" Ron asked.

"The Carrows."

Hermione stared at Ron with wide eyes.

"I've no idea what you're going on about, Peeves," Ron said nervously, folding his arms in frustration.

"They got burned to crispy little crunchities," he giggled.

"Well, good," Ron said adamantly. "That's two fewer Death Eaters to deal with."

Hermione elbowed him in the ribs as Peeves guffawed loudly, "That's the spirit!"

Ron smiled and, with a shake of his head, began the ascent to the headmaster's office. About four stairs up, however, a thought occurred to him, and he turned around. "Peeves? Are there any ghosts in the castle that would be willing to help fight You-Know-Who?"

"Can't say I know of any ghosties who _don't_ want to kill yucky Tom Riddle," Peeves chortled.

"Great," Ron said, grinning. "Would you round them up and have them meet me in Snape's office?"

Peeves surprised Ron by saluting him (something he'd only ever done for the Weasley twins two years prior) and then turned over and zoomed down the corridor. Hermione smiled widely at him in a congratulatory manner.

"Come on, Bushy Hair," he muttered, grinning.

The pair made quick work of the journey to the headmaster's office. But when they were standing before the gargoyle, Ron just stared at the statue stupidly. Hermione nudged him, a question in her eyes.

"Don't know the password," he said, a bit grouchy.

Hermione's eyes lit up. She picked up his hand and, with her right index finger, traced letters onto his palm.

Ron looked at her dubiously, but complied with her insistent gestures toward the gargoyle. Turned out she was right. When he muttered, "Lily," at the gargoyle, it immediately sprang to life and stepped away from the spiral stairs. Hermione stepped onto the moving staircase. Ron followed her, his nerves fraying a little more the closer he came to Snape. His hand shook a bit as he knocked upon the wooden door.

"Enter," came Snape's oily, bored-sounding voice.

Hermione carefully opened the door and stepped into the circular room with Ron at her side.

"Mr. Weasley! And Miss Granger! How wonderful to see you again!" cried a familiar voice that had Hermione smiling again.

Ron looked up at the portrait of Dumbledore behind Snape's desk. "Hullo, Professor."

Snape blinked at him. "To what do I owe the honor, Mr. Weasley? Miss Granger?"

"You may have already been informed sir, but You-Know-Who has demanded that Harry meet him in Godric's Hollow one week from today." Ron stared at his shoes as he spoke to the greasy, black-clad man before him.

"Yes, I had heard the news."

"Well, I came to ask if any of the professors here would be willing to help us fight." Hermione elbowed him again, gesturing with her head to look Snape in the eye, but Ron adamantly refused.

"And so I assumed."

Ron continued staring at his shoes, mentally untying and retying his laces.

Snape cleared his throat, and Ron's head snapped up to look at him. "I've already conferred with the remaining professors. It's been much easier to do since the Carrows…left."

"Oh," Ron muttered.

"All of them are prepared to fight at a moment's notice. Professor McGonagall herself said she was most anxious to try the spell that would bring all of Hogwarts' statues to life. She's certain that they will still fight alongside us in a different location, so long as they know it's to protect the students of the school." Snape folded his hands together and rested them on his desk.

"I, well…oh." Ron was at a loss for words.

"Mr. Weasley, did you have anything further to say, or have I sufficiently pulled the wind from your sails? And what of you, Miss Granger? Has the proverbial cat finally gotten hold of your know-it-all tongue?" Snape sneered.

Hermione frowned and looked away from Snape, obviously upset.

"What, no witty comeback?" he pressed.

Ron rolled his eyes. "She was cursed. She can't speak."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "How...unfortunate."

Ron scowled at him. "Anyway, we ran into Peeves on the way up, and he's gathering the ghosts. They all want to help as well."

Snape nodded. "I can inform them of the plans…that is…if there are any?" He raised an eyebrow insolently.

Ron chose to ignore the man's obvious disrespect. It was painfully clear that, whether they fought on the same side or not, Snape would never be friendly with his former Gryffindor students. "Luna Lovegood is evacuating Godric's Hollow right now. Harry is trying to gather enough people on our side to fill the homes and act as if they are the residents. He's hoping to fool You-Know-Who."

"I see." Snape steepled his fingers together. "I will send the ghosts to Godric's Hollow. I'll also have the professors ask among the students that are of age to see if there is anyone else willing to fight, and then send them over as soon as possible."

"Thank you," Ron said. "I know Harry appreciates your help."

Snape nodded sharply. "You'd best be off, then."

"Okay."

Snape looked down at the parchment scattered across his desk and began shuffling through the pages, clearly dismissing his former students. With a shrug, Ron turned and left the office with Hermione. As it was still midmorning, and the students were all still stuck in classes, the two friends didn't encounter anyone on their way out of the castle. The walk into the Forbidden Forest seemed to take twice as long as it should have, but Ron and Hermione dutifully continued on their quest to help Harry.

* * *

Hermione had always hated this blasted forest. Ever since first year when she'd been sent in to find the injured unicorn on her first and only detention ever. It was creepy, and dark, and it smelled of rotting flesh most of the time. She shuddered and continued ahead of Ron through the thick foliage, searching for the hollow where Hagrid had made up a home for his giant half-brother. Hermione was fairly certain it was in this area, but it had been two years since she'd last been here, and things in an enchanted forest tended to change a lot in that amount of time.

She and Ron pushed through a dense patch of ivy hanging between two giant willow trees, and suddenly found themselves ensnared in thorny vines. As the greenery began twining itself around her arms and legs, Hermione recognized the plant as being wild Devil's Snare. Just perfect. She knew better than to struggle against her current state of captivity, so she slowly tried to inch her hand toward her wand. This particular patch of Devil's Snare, however, seemed to be much more intelligent than the plant she'd encountered more than six years prior, and wrapped a thick vine around her wrist, effectively cutting her off from her wand.

Ron, of course, struggled loudly. "Gerroff! Stupid plant!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. How could he honestly not recognize Devil's Snare after his encounter with it in first year? Hermione knew she'd never forget the look or smell of the blasted thing.

"Argh! Gerroff me!" Ron bellowed.

"Wheezy?" A loud voice boomed out through the trees.

"Grawp!" Ron shouted. "We're over here!"

Hermione also recognized the rumbling voice that sounded like boulders smashing into each other. She never thought she'd be grateful to hear the giant's voice, though.

The giant stumbled into view and, upon spotting the situation Ron and Hermione were in, immediately grew angry and yelled at the offending vines, "Bad! No hurt Hermy! Bad!" With that profound statement, he plucked Hermione from the Devil's Snare as if it were no stronger than a spider's web with one hand, and Ron with the other.

"Thanks, Grawp!" Ron said, huffing for breath.

"Miss you, Hermy," Grawp said as quietly as he could manage. The noise still startled several birds from their perches among the trees.

Hermione looked at the giant in surprise and pointed to herself. He'd missed her?

Grawp frowned. "Hermy talk!"

Hermione shook her head.

"She can't Grawp," Ron said softly. "She got hurt."

"Who hurt Hermy?" the giant asked angrily.

"That's actually what we came here to talk to you about." Ron tried a tentative smile.

"You see Grawp?"

"Yes, we've come to see you," Ron said carefully.

"Want Hagger." Grawp changed the subject and sank to the forest floor, still gently holding Ron and Hermione in his gigantic hands.

"I know, Grawp." Ron patted the giant's pointer finger comfortingly.

"Where Hagger?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him since last year."

A beach ball-sized tear rolled down Grawp's boulderish face. "Miss Hagger."

Hermione poked Grawp's thumb. When he looked down at her, she smiled at him. His face broke into a wide, if somewhat terrifying smile.

"Grawp, we need your help," Ron tried again.

"Help?" the giant asked.

"Yeah," Ron said. "Did Hagrid ever tell you about the bad man that wants to kill Harry?"

Grawp only growled menacingly.

"I'll take that as a yes," Ron said as Hermione chuckled. "Well, Grawp, the bad man is going to try to hurt Harry soon. Will you help us keep him safe?"

Grawp nodded vigorously. "Grawp help Hermy."

Ron poked him. "What about me?"

Grawp smiled again. "And Wheezy."

"Thanks, mate. You know, Hagrid will be there."

Grawp's eyes brightened. "Grawp see Hagger?" he asked loudly.

Ron nodded.

"Grawp happy."

"Good." Ron patted his finger again. "Listen, Grawp. We have to leave now, but we'll come back for you as soon as it's time to see Hagrid, okay?"

Grawp nodded again. "Soon?" he asked.

"Very soon."

The giant lowered them to the ground. "Soon," he clarified.

Hermione looked up at their unusual friend and placed her hand over her heart in a silent promise.

"Listen, Grawp, have you seen Firenze lately?" Ron asked gently.

"Horsie?" Grawp asked.

"Yes. Have you seen him?"

Grawp raised a finger as thick as a tree trunk and pointed to the east. "There."

"Thank you, Grawp. We'll come see you again very, very soon."

"Bye, Hermy." He waved sadly.

Hermione flashed him a brilliant smile and waved goodbye before following Ron in the direction Grawp had indicated.

It didn't take very long before she spotted fresh hoof prints in the soft dirt. She pointed them out to Ron, and they followed the tracks into a clearing where the trees had grown to be almost as thick around as the entirety of Gryffindor tower. As Hermione padded forward, she realized the trees had been hollowed out to form house-like structures.

"Hello?" Ron called out cautiously. "Is Firenze here?"

Hermione spotted faces watching her from the makeshift homes, and realized with a start that there were young centaurs living here. Children, really. She smiled at the one closest to her, and was rewarded with a shy smile in return. Then she nudged Ron and pointed to her new friend.

"Hello," Ron said cautiously to the rusty-haired centaur. "Have you seen Firenze?"

"Yes." The responding voice was distinctly male. "He is visiting our leader right now."

He took a small step closer to the young colt. "Would you mind telling us where that is?"

The centaur nodded. "His hut is straight across the clearing from here. You cannot miss it, as it is the largest tree and the only pine in the clearing."

"Thanks a bunch, kid. What's your name? I'm Ron, and this is Hermione."

"My name is Copper." The colt offered up a shaky smile.

"A pleasure to meet you, Copper. Thanks again for your help."

Hermione smiled at him again and, with a wave goodbye, walked across the clearing with Ron.

The young centaur had been correct in his directions. The tree he had been referring to, indeed the only pine in the clearing, was nearly three times as wide as the others. The enormous tree even had a front door, something the other makeshift homes had lacked. Hermione politely knocked on the wood, which had been intricately carved with runes and constellations. As she waited, she recalled Harry telling her that centaurs gleaned most of their knowledge from astrological study.

When the door opened, the centaur that towered over her had an all-black flank, and the hair of his chest, head, and beard was black peppered through with grey. He stared down at her with menacing deep-brown eyes.

"What are you doing here, human children?"

Hermione plastered a polite smile on her face, feeling anything but calm at the moment.

"Er, hello," Ron stuttered. "Sorry to bother you, but, er— "

"Mr. Weasley, is that you?" called a voice from within the home.

"You know these humans, Firenze?" asked the centaur at the door, turning his head to see his guest.

"Indeed. Mr. Weasley was once my student up at the school." The blonde-haired centaur joined the pair at the door. "It is good to see you. And you've brought along Miss Granger. Very good."

"Hello, Firenze." Ron reached up and shook his hand.

Firenze tilted his head at Hermione. "Why do you not speak, child?"

Hermione shook her head and pointed to her throat for what felt like the millionth time.

"You cannot. What happened?"

Ron cleared his throat. "You-Know-Who cursed her," he said angrily.

"I suppose you ought to come in," the dark-haired centaur interrupted. "We were just sitting down to tea."

"Thank you. We appreciate your time." Ron and Hermione followed the two centaurs inside.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, I would like to introduce you to the leader of the centaurs here in the Forbidden Forest. This is Vargorne." Firenze gestured grandly to the other centaur.

"Good to meet you, Vargorne," Ron said somewhat formally.

Hermione, in lieu of a verbal greeting, reached out and shook the intimidating centaur's hand.

"Indeed," Vargorne replied. "Would you two like anything to eat?"

Hermione looked at the spread before them. On a table nearly as tall as Hermione, there were plates of strange things like grubworms, soft-looking leaves, and thick tubers that appeared to have come from the trees themselves. One plate held something resembling a fruit. She barely managed to keep the disgusted grimace from her face.

"Er, thanks, but we just ate," Ron said, trying to cover up the sound of his stomach growling with hunger. Hermione smirked at him.

"Very well. I hope you don't mind that we eat in front of you." Vargorne loaded up a plate of his own, then laid his horse half upon the ground. "Now, what was it that you needed to discuss with us?"

This was where the conversation got hard, Hermione thought.

"I'm sure you're aware of just how bad things have gotten since You-Know-Who returned," Ron began.

"Yes, these are dark times, indeed," Vargorne agreed seriously.

"I remember well the night nearly seven years ago that I read in the stars of his return. I had so hoped to be wrong," Firenze sighed. "Alas, that was not to be."

"Mars will be unusually bright again tonight," remarked Vargorne.

"Really?" Firenze asked interestedly.

Vargorne nodded gravely. "It was last night, and it shall be again tonight."

"Mars…the bringer of battle. How very strange that it should be so on two of the occasions when I have encountered Harry Potter and his friends in the forest," Firenze mused. "Is Mr. Potter with you?"

Hermione shook her head.

"He's actually out gathering help." Ron supplied the verbal answer.

"Help? For what?" Vargorne asked sharply.

"You-Know-Who has demanded an end to the war. He is forcing Harry to meet him in Godric's Hollow in a week's time."

"I see," Vargorne muttered. "I assume you are here for help as well?"

Ron swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "I just know that centaurs are incredible fighters, and I wondered if you'd like the chance to defeat You-Know-Who for good. Harry, Hermione, and I have been working hard this past year to make sure he is vulnerable again."

Vargorne looked between them thoughtfully. "You make an excellent point. I was but a young colt when Riddle came to power the first time. It was not a good life, of that I can assure you. I have no wish for my people to suffer through such cruelty a second time. However, I will have to discuss the decision with our warriors before I can ally my people with you. You understand, I believe?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "I know it's a lot to ask."

"Thank you for coming to us with your request, Mr. Weasley," Firenze said quietly. "I assure you that if we decide to help, we will meet you in Godric's Hollow promptly."

"Thank you Firenze. Stay safe," Ron said respectfully. "And you, Vargorne."

Hermione stood up and shook each centaur's hand.

"May the stars go with you," Vargorne said.

Hermione gave the centaurs one last quivering smile, then she and Ron took leave of the forest. Finding their way out was much easier than making their way in. It had always been that way for Hermione at least, as if the forest were physically expelling any living thing that it deemed unworthy of harboring. Once they were back on Hogwarts' grounds, Ron turned to her.

"Ready to head back to camp?"

She nodded. A nap sounded pretty good to her.

* * *

"That was quite a fun time," Draco said sarcastically as he and Harry walked around to the front of Shell Cottage.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, they can be that way sometimes."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes?"

"Okay, all the time." Harry laughed again. "Still, at least they're helping us."

"True."

Harry glanced at him. "You ready to go to Grimmauld Place?"

Draco nodded.

"Okay. Hang on, I'm going to Apparate us directly inside the house." He placed his hand on Draco's shoulder again, and they were whisked away from the beautiful seaside home.

When Draco opened his eyes again, he was greeted by a much gloomier space. It appeared to have been through a rigorous cleaning process somewhat recently, as evidenced by the darker patches on the wallpaper where portraits and other trinkets had once been hung. Draco recalled Bellatrix proudly telling him once that they used to cut off the heads of their house elves, once they were no longer able to serve, and mounted them to the walls. He shuddered at the thought. This row house had been victim to a lot of Dark magic and artifacts. That it even looked somewhat welcoming was a huge credit to whoever had worked on cleaning it up (Mrs. Weasley, he assumed).

"So why are we here?" Draco asked.

"Kreacher," Harry said simply.

Draco frowned, but his unasked question was answered a split second later when a wrinkly old house-elf appeared with a loud _crack!_ The house-elf, clad in nothing but a filthy rag tied about his waist like a loincloth, bowed deeply. His bat-like ears flapped, and the white hair that sprouted from them brushed the floor.

"How can Kreacher serve Master Harry?" he asked.

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Kreacher straightened, and upon catching sight of Draco, bowed deeply again. "Young Mr. Malfoy, it is an honor to meet you."

This surprised Draco even more.

"Kreacher," Harry said kindly, "I need your help."

"Anything Kreacher can do to help you, sir."

"Can you contact Dobby and all of the house elves at Hogwarts? We're about to face You-Know-Who for the last time in Godric's Hollow, and I was hoping that you and the other house-elves would be willing to fight with us. Is that something you think you could do for me?" Harry presented the information to the house-elf as if it were a decision that he could make himself, rather than a command. This probably surprised Draco most of all.

"Kreacher is proud to help Master Harry," Kreacher said. "Kreacher admits that he is frightened to face the Dark Lord in battle, but Kreacher remembers how house-elves were treated like vermin when he had power before. Master Harry has treated Kreacher like an equal, and Kreacher is glad to help you defeat him."

Harry smiled warmly at his house elf. "Thank you, Kreacher. Bring any of the elves that are willing to help. If any of them want to stay behind, it's quite all right."

"Yes, sir." Kreacher bowed one more time, then disappeared with his signature _crack!_

"That's it, then?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded. "Ready to head back to camp?"

Draco grinned ruefully. "Tea time with the Order was particularly grueling," he said. "Felt like I was being interrogated for criminal activity or something."

Harry chuckled. "Well, in a way, you were."


	16. The Battle Begins

Chapter Sixteen: The Battle Begins

* * *

When Draco and Harry arrived back at camp, a big crowd was gathered near the lake. Wondering what all the fuss was about, they joined everyone that was milling around and chattering excitedly. Draco scanned the group of people. Most of them he recognized as already having been there, but several old familiar faces had joined the ranks: the Weasley twins were there, entertaining several people with their latest Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products; the twins' friend Lee Jordan was giving play-by-play commentary; the old Gryffindor Chasers, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet, were in attendance; and the girl who'd briefly dated Cedric Diggory (was her name Cho Chang?) stood off to the side, looking somewhat awkward.

Harry hurried over to greet the Weasley twins. Draco stood there observing the group for a few more seconds before firmly turning around and walking to the infirmary tent. It was the only sanctuary he'd actually found since arriving at the camp. He picked up a book from the stacks Hermione had left on the floor, not paying much attention to the title, and settled on an empty cot to read for a while.

Draco couldn't focus on the book, though. He was worried about Hermione. She had been gone longer than he had, and he hated being away from her anymore. Ever since he'd rescued her at Malfoy Manor, he'd nearly been unable to let her out of his sight. That didn't seem to help matters, though. Just look what happened when they were at Snape's house! She'd been cursed and couldn't speak! And it was his fault. He stared blankly at the pages, fighting an internal battle.

He was so engaged in fighting with himself that he didn't notice Hermione enter the tent. She literally had to sit on the cot in front of him and touch his hand to get his attention. When he felt her hand on his, his head snapped up to look at her. He immediately tossed the book on the floor and pulled her into his arms.

"Oh, thank Salazar you're all right." He moved back just enough to press his lips against hers. "You're never allowed to leave my side again, you hear me?" he said against her mouth.

Hermione pushed him back a little more, smiling as she did so. She shook her head, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Draco narrowed his eyes at her mocking expression.

"What's so funny?" he growled playfully.

Hermione poked him in the chest.

"I'm not funny, I'm serious." Draco looked at her plaintively. "I can't bear the anxiety when you're gone."

She smiled a little. Then, with a mischievous look in her eyes, she reached out and pinched Draco's stomach, pulling on it as if he were a chubby baby.

"I have not gone soft!" Draco interpreted.

Hermione nodded emphatically.

"I've only gone soft for you," he admitted. "I'm still a raging git to everyone else."

Hermione smiled broadly and moved closer, hiding her face against his neck. Draco chuckled, burying his nose in her curls. Holding her like this, being with her during the middle of a war, he realized something monumental. He was in love with her.

But he wasn't about to tell her. He couldn't hand her that piece of information right before the final battle. It would keep her from thinking straight, and could get her killed. Besides, he didn't want to say it until she could say it back. Draco knew he had to figure out what was wrong with Hermione's voice. She couldn't go into the final battle unable to speak the incantations that would keep her alive. He wouldn't let her.

Draco relaxed as he breathed in Hermione's scent. Cinnamon and apples. Even in the middle of the woods. His eyelids began to droop, and he realized that she had fallen asleep against his chest. Exhausted himself, Draco shifted until they were both lying on the cot side-by-side. Then he let himself drift.

He was abruptly awakened when Harry, Ron, and Neville entered the tent. He watched the trio carefully, wondering what they were up to. His eyes narrowed as they approached the cot where he lay curled around Hermione.

"Malfoy, is she all right?" Harry asked softly.

"Yeah," Draco whispered. "Just tired."

"Well, this is pretty important," Neville said. "I think we should wake her up."

Draco nodded. He gently eased them both into a sitting position, and Hermione's eyes fluttered open sleepily. She focused first on Draco and smiled sweetly at him, then noticed the other three occupants of the tent. She frowned up at them, clearly confused.

"S'okay, 'Mione," Ron said. "Neville thinks he knows how to fix your voice."

Hermione looked to Neville, her eyes wide and full of hope.

Neville chuckled. "I hope so, too. I've never actually dealt with this curse before, and there's not a whole lot of research on it since You-Know-Who developed it himself during the first war. If I manage to help you, though, and we survive the war, I'm definitely going to spend some time doing research myself."

Hermione smiled and nodded at him encouragingly.

"Thanks, Hermione. But we don't know if it works yet."

"What is it you think will help?" Draco finally asked the question that nobody had bothered to address yet.

"Right. Well, the Immortelle flower was used as a means to control the inflammation from the curse. We addressed the wounds on the outside of your neck, Hermione, but I didn't make sure there were no wounds on the inside of your throat. It's my guess that the curse affects both outside and inside, and that's why you can't speak yet."

Draco stood up, glaring at Neville. "You still haven't gotten to the part that fixes her voice, Longbottom."

"Calm down, Malfoy, he's getting there," Harry interrupted, rolling his eyes.

Draco scowled at Harry but kept his mouth shut.

"It was actually Ron that gave me the idea," Neville said brightly to Hermione. "We were talking about it, and he told me about the time when you were nine that you had your tonsils removed, and how you got to eat loads of ice cream and ice pops until you felt better. So I did a bit of looking around, and ice is commonly used to treat inflammation and burns on Muggles."

Hermione gave him a look that clearly said _No kidding, genius_. Draco chuckled at her.

"That gave me the idea to make a tonic out of Yarrow and Elder Flower. Both herbs are used for cooling purposes. I'm going to lace it with Murtlap Essence, which should be just fine for you to ingest, as there's nothing overtly toxic in it." Neville smiled triumphantly.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, obviously thinking through his logic. When she smiled at him and shrugged one shoulder, Draco figured that she hadn't found anything wrong with the plan. It was a damn good thing Neville had found an affinity with Herbology, or Hermione would be dead several times over.

"Go for it, Neville," Harry encouraged. "If Hermione thinks it's all right, then so do I."

"Same here," Ron added.

"Great. I'll get started on it right now." Neville moved to the back of the tent and began clanking around with vials and cauldrons.

"Snape would never believe his eyes," Draco muttered.

Ron laughed. "No kidding!"

"I think that things changed for Nev after fifth year," Harry said, "after we formed the DA. Helping him get better at spells gave him confidence in his own abilities. Professor Slughorn actually sought him out when he didn't show up in Advanced Potions since his parents were both so good, and offered to let him in the class even though he didn't get his OWL."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "I always wondered how he got into that class. I suppose I should have been easier on him, too. I know I definitely made things worse for him a lot of the time."

"Shh," Harry cautioned. "Don't let anyone hear you say something like that. They might get the wrong idea and think you're actually nice!"

Draco narrowed his eyes and punched Harry in the shoulder. "Git."

Harry rubbed his shoulder, a fake pout on his lips. "That hurt."

"No, what hurts is that we somehow became friends. It hurts my ego, it hurts my brain, and it hurts my dignity." Draco puffed out his chest pompously.

Harry snorted. "Sure it does, Malfoy."

Ron watched the exchange with a bewildered look on his face. "How in Merlin's beard did that happen, 'Mione?"

Hermione looked at her freckled friend bemusedly and shrugged.

"I'm hungry," Ron announced suddenly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "What else is new?"

Ron scowled at him. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"How about we go grab food for everyone, Ron?" Harry suggested, physically pulling his friend from the tent before an altercation could break out.

Draco shook his head in annoyance and sat down on the cot again. Hermione was staring at him, an eyebrow raised in skepticism. He looked at her blandly for a minute.

"What?" he finally exploded.

Hermione grinned and gestured to where Ron had been standing, then wiggled her eyebrows up and down.

"No, Weasel and I are not bloody friends!" Draco protested rather loudly.

Hermione smirked. He could almost hear her saying _Sure, Malfoy. Whatever you say._

"We're not!" he said again. "Maybe we aren't quite as hostile with one another, but we're certainly not friends!"

She just nodded her head knowingly.

Draco scowled at her halfheartedly. How did she manage to still communicate so clearly when she couldn't utter a word? It made no sense. Just then, Neville approached with a small cup filled with a ruby-colored liquid. He handed the glass to Hermione.

"You'll have to take this twice a day," he said. "I don't know for how long. I guess we'll find out when you get your voice back."

Hermione nodded and tossed back Neville's concoction. She looked surprised as she swallowed.

"What?" Neville asked worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Hermione nodded.

Draco swiped his finger around the edge of the glass and tasted the remnants. "It's sweet."

Hermione nodded emphatically.

"I'm glad you like it, Hermione." Neville gave her a brief hug before leaving the tent.

* * *

The rest of the week leading up to the final battle flew by. Members of the Order of the Phoenix were shown to the camp and would pop in and out frequently. Everyone was undergoing preparations like mad, trying to be as ready as possible for the coming fight. A large section of the clearing had been set aside for dueling practice, and dozens of people were there from sunrise to sunset.

Draco made it his personal mission to keep Hermione healthy and safe. He followed her everywhere and constantly nagged her to take her potion twice a day. Slowly but surely, her voice began to come back. Mostly it was a hoarse whisper, but something was a hell of a lot better than nothing.

The night before the battle was to take place, everyone of age in the DA's camp—which consisted of no less than three-fourths of the occupants—migrated to Godric's Hollow. The vacated houses were filled with various students and members of the Order, along with any extra allies that had been rounded up. Draco was pleasantly surprised to find that their numbers consisted of nearly four hundred people, including the two dozen house-elves that insisted on coming to fight, and the Hogwarts statues, ghosts, and Forbidden Forest residents. Peeves had even made an appearance. It was a beautiful sight to behold. He was even pleased to discover that they had a giant fighting on their side.

Somehow, Draco had been fortunate enough to be assigned to a small flat with Hermione. He suspected Harry had something to do with it, but chose not to question his good luck. He and Hermione arrived at the flat close to eight o'clock in the evening. Right away, Draco moved to the kitchen to see if there was a decent meal he could throw together. The cupboards were nearly empty; the only thing to be found there was half a loaf of French bread. He shrugged and accepted it as food. Strange, how much he'd changed since leaving the manor. The refrigerator had a small block of cheddar cheese and a half-gallon of pumpkin juice. It would have to do.

Draco walked back into the sitting room, his arms laden with the fruits of his labor. Hermione was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, trying to get the remnants of wood to light. Draco placed their miniscule meal on the small coffee table, then moved to pull Hermione to her feet.

"Don't worry about that," he said lowly. "It's May. We won't need the heat."

She squinted at him in the darkness. "But we'll need the light," she croaked.

Draco pulled out his wand and, with a quick flick of his wrist, an orange-sized orb of light jumped into existence. With another flick, the orb moved to hover above the middle of the room about four feet in the air. Draco then pushed the coffee table out of the way, conjured a blanket, and laid it out on the floor.

"Have a picnic with me," he said, taking the food off of the table and setting it on the blanket.

Hermione smiled at him. "I knew you'd gone soft," she whispered.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her and yanked on her wrist, effectively pulling her onto his lap. He pressed his lips to hers, making sure to nip her bottom lip when he pulled away.

"Not too soft, I hope."

She rubbed at the sore spot on her lip. "Still can't fool me."

"Wasn't trying to," he said, a heated look in his eyes.

Hermione slapped his chest. "Stop it."

Draco shook his head. "Don't know how."

Abruptly, he moved so that Hermione was lying on the floor on her back. He hovered over her, resting his weight on his forearms. He leaned down and kissed her again slowly, heat burning its way through him like molten lava.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered, nuzzling her neck.

Hermione shook her head and wove her fingers through his hair. She pulled on his head so that his lips were within reach and resumed kissing him. Not too keen to play the submissive part, Draco commanded the movement of her lips, forcing them apart so he could deepen the kiss. Their tongues twined together, and Hermione let out a little whimper that drove Draco mad.

He stopped thinking and started reacting. Hermione responded to his ministrations without hesitation, and soon they were both lost in the throes of desire. The food lay forgotten on the floor beside them as they basked in each other's presence. Looking back, Draco would describe that moment as perfect, for he never would have believed that he could find such happiness, let alone in the midst of war. Later, as they drifted off to sleep, Draco conjured a blanket and draped it over them. Yes, this moment was perfect.

* * *

In the morning, Draco awoke to find Hermione curled up against him, her head resting on his bare chest. He stroked her spine with the tips of his fingers, knowing they had to prepare for the coming day, but also dreading letting her leave his arms. Hermione tilted her head and looked up at him, blinking sleepily.

"Good morning," Draco mumbled.

Hermione yawned. "Yes, it is, isn't it?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Even though it's today?"

She frowned. "Why would the day make a difference? I'm with you; that's all that matters right now."

He chuckled at her. "There's your usual Gryffindor cheer. I'd almost started to miss it."

Hermione poked his cheek. "Hush, you."

"Well, come on, then. We should probably get up." Draco didn't move from his position.

"You're probably right," Hermione agreed. "But we really have no idea when You-Know-Who will actually show up, so maybe we should just take advantage of— "

She stopped talking as someone knocked on the door of the flat.

"Of course," Draco muttered.

He stood up and slipped back into his trousers before cracking the door open and peering outside. Harry stood on the stoop, a knowing gleam in his green eyes. Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Potter. Wipe that look off your smug face, you git."

Harry laughed. "Don't think I will, thanks."

"Is there something I can do for you?" he asked derisively.

"Actually, I have some news to share. Ron is on his way over with Neville, Ginny, and Luna right now." Harry looked beyond Draco's shoulder. "Can I come in?"

Scowling, Draco looked back at Hermione. Seeing that she was, indeed, decent, he pulled the door open further and allowed the Boy Who Lived to interrupt his morning activities. "Come on, then."

"Morning, Harry," Hermione said hoarsely, giving him a quick hug.

"'Mione. Feeling better today?" Harry asked kindly.

She nodded. "Much."

Harry smirked at her. "Thought that might be the case."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Before Harry could respond, however, the door to the flat burst open, and the rest of the expected visitors strolled in. Ginny, Neville, and Luna sat down on the only couch in the room.

"So what's the news, Harry?" Ron asked eagerly. His injuries from the battle in the Room of Requirement were finally doing much better, and he was all too interested in picking more fights.

Harry sighed and rubbed at his scar. "You-Know-Who is almost here. I couldn't see how many people he had with him, but I'd imagine it's a pretty significant amount. Anyway, my plan is to meet him in the town square, by the statue of Godric Gryffindor."

"What about the rest of us?" Hermione asked.

"I know there won't be a perfect time to act, but a minute or so after You-Know-Who shows up, I want everyone on our side to join me. I've already talked with the professors, and they're relaying the information now. I just wanted to be the one to update you six." Harry ran his hands through his already messy hair. "I'm not sure I'm ready for this."

"Come on, Harry— " Ron was interrupted when the door flew open, admitting Mrs. Weasley, along with her husband and three of her other sons.

"Ginny!" she shrieked.

Ginny stared her mother in the face, daring her to say what was coming next.

"You're underage! I won't permit you to fight! The boys, yes, but you, you've got to get home!"

"I won't!" Ginny shouted, hurrying to Harry's side. "I'm in Dumbledore's Army!"

"A teenagers' gang!" Mrs. Weasley protested.

"A teenagers' gang that's about to take him on, which no one else has dared to do!" Fred opined from the doorway.

"She's sixteen!" Mrs. Weasley rounded on her son. "She's not old enough! What were you thinking, bringing her with you?"

"Mum's right, Ginny," Bill added. "You can't do this. Anyone else here that's underage will have to leave, it's only right."

"I can't go home!" Ginny shouted again. "My whole family's here! I can't stand waiting there alone and not knowing and…" she trailed off, burying her face in Harry's shirt.

Nobody spoke for a long time. Then, someone cleared his throat from behind the Weasley twins. Everyone turned to stare at the redheaded newcomer wearing horn-rimmed glasses.

"Am I too late?" he asked. "Has it started? I only just found out so…" He looked around at his family that was gathered in the room. They all stared at him in shocked silence. "I was a fool," Percy muttered. "I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a—a— "

"Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron?" Fred suggested helpfully.

Percy nodded slowly. "Yes, I was."

"I accept your apology." Fred feigned gallantry, holding out his hand for his brother to shake.

Mrs. Weasley started crying and shoved Fred out of the way so she could hug Percy. Draco watched all of this happen, completely confused. Apparently Percy had been estranged from his family, but this was the first he'd heard of it.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Percy said over his mother's shoulder.

Mr. Weasley hurried forward to join the hugfest. Ginny's presence at the final battle had apparently been dismissed. George took a step closer to his brother being smothered by their parents.

"What made you see sense, Perce?" he asked quietly.

Draco was stunned. Since when did any of the Weasley clan say anything quietly? Especially one of the twins…today was definitely going to be a day full of surprises.

"It's been coming on for a while, but I had to find a way out, and it's not so easy at the Ministry. They're imprisoning traitors all the time. I managed to make contact with Aberforth, and he tipped me off ten minutes ago that we're preparing to fight, so here I am." Percy shrugged.

"Well, we do look to our prefects to take a lead at times such as these," George said, imitating Percy at his most pompous. "Now let's get out there and fight, or all the good Death Eaters'll be taken!"

"Er, George, they're not even here yet," Harry said.

"Right," George answered. "'Course not."

"So, what's next?" Percy asked, heading out the door with the twins.

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley suddenly remembered her youngest child.

"Mrs. Weasley, what if Ginny promises to stay here?" Draco suggested, eyeing the girl. "We could put up wards so nobody can get in. Then she'll be on the scene and know what's going on, but she won't be in the middle of the fighting."

Hermione beamed up at him.

"That's a good idea," Mr. Weasley said, looking around at everyone. "Ginny, you stay in this flat, you hear me?"

"What about me?" Luna asked in her dreamy way.

"You too, Luna. Your father would never forgive me if I let you go out there and fight." Mr. Weasley shook his finger sternly at the two girls before leaving the flat with his wife.

"D'you think they know we won't stay here?" Luna asked Ginny airily.

Ginny smirked. "Dunno. Don't particularly care. I'm not letting my family go out there without me."

Ron rolled his eyes at them. "Don't tell Mum, okay Bill?"

Bill chuckled agreeably. "I wasn't even here."

"What now, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I guess we wait," he said softly.

* * *

The sun was on its downward arc by the time anything happened. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Ginny were still sitting around the flat, bored out of their skulls and attempting a rousing game of Exploding Snap to pass the time. It wasn't working very well. Draco's nerves just coiled tighter the longer they waited for the inevitable.

And then a spark of electricity fizzled through the air around them, making Hermione's already bushy hair grow frizzier. Draco looked out the window and saw that every other house on the street was sparking similarly to the flat. It left a strong taste of foreboding on his tongue.

Then a cold, high voice rent the air: "Harry Potter, I know you are here. Come out and face me. Don't die a coward, the way your filthy Mudblood mother did."

Draco spun to face Harry. Those words had definitely been a mistake. If there was one thing most wizards had in common, it was that they didn't approve of people badmouthing their mothers. The only exception to the rule seemed to be Tom Riddle. Harry's face was livid. He gripped his wand tightly in his hand and marched from the flat without a word to anyone.

Hermione stared at his retreating back, anxiety on her face.

Voldemort's voice continued: "I know you are preparing to fight."

Hermione looked at Draco, her eyes wide. "He knows we're here?" she whispered.

Draco shrugged.

"Your efforts are futile," Voldemort mocked. "You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I do not want to spill magical blood. Abandon Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed. I will leave you untouched. You will be rewarded."

"No way in hell, Moldy Face," Ron muttered.

Draco chuckled. "Should've been calling him that all along, Weasley."

Ron gave Draco a tentative grin.

"I think we should go after Harry now," Hermione said. "If You-Know-Who is serious, he's going to try and take him down at first sight."

Ginny nodded. "Let's go then."

The group marched out of the flat, heading in the direction of the center of town. As they approached, Draco was disheartened to see a huge crowd supporting Voldemort. Even worse were the two dozen giants that were on his side. The one smallish giant fighting for the Order wouldn't be a match for the ones Voldemort had fighting for him. Hundreds of dementors floated over the crowd of Death Eaters. Draco thought he even spotted some goblins wandering through their ranks. It was going to be a difficult fight.

As they hurried past the church, Neville rushed by with Professor Sprout, each clutching several large, potted plants. Half a dozen other students followed them, similarly laden.

"Mandrakes!" Neville shouted as he ran past. "Going to lob them into the crowd—they won't like this."

Hermione grinned. "That's brilliant, since the sound of Mandrakes can kill you when they're fully grown. If I'm not mistaken, those particular ones were."

Draco matched her wicked grin. "Excellent."

The group passed Hagrid and his gigantic boarhound conversing with the herd of centaurs. A very blonde one waved merrily at Hermione and Ron. And then they were in the town square with most of their group, facing off against the army of Death Eaters. A great silence hung in the air, then as the sun dipped below the horizon, a yell erupted from the front of their group, and Mandrakes began soaring through the air into the opposite crowd.

Dozens of Death Eaters cried out in pain, covering their ears, while dozens more dropped to the ground, completely lifeless. Then the Death Eaters charged, fury stamped across each face. Groups of people began breaking off into smaller cliques, fighting for their lives. People began streaming into the abandoned houses, the dark windows lighting up with the bursts of colorful spells.

Draco took Hermione's free hand, unwilling to let her leave his side. Together, they faced off against Dolohov and the Imperiused Thicknesse. Both Death Eaters aimed only to kill. Draco quickly dodged another one of Dolohov's Killing Curses, and shot a Melting Hex at him. Instantly, Dolohov's face began drooping, his skin sliding down his chest as if it were made of liquid. Meanwhile, Hermione was struggling to handle the barrage of spells Thicknesse was directing at her. She had dropped her offensive spells and was merely using defensive spells to stop his curses from getting to her. Draco took a step towards her just as Percy and Fred burst into the alley where the fight was going on.

"Hello, Minister!" Percy shouted, briefly distracting the man. He tossed a jinx at the man, who immediately began pulling at his skin, screaming painfully. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

"You're joking, Perce!" Fred shouted gleefully, watching Thicknesse fall to the ground, covered in tiny spikes. "You actually are joking, Perce…I don't think I've heard you joke since you were— "

As Fred was teasing his older brother, Draco had been watching, with growing horror, the giant that was approaching them. The giant held a huge, flaming boulder in his hands and was aiming it in their direction. Fred immediately shut up when Draco tackled him to the ground and threw up a powerful Shield Charm around himself, Fred, Percy, and Hermione.

The ground around them exploded in chunks of concrete and dirt. The wall of the house to their left cracked and began tumbling down on top of them. The house on the left was on fire, the fragile timber threatening to give way as well. Draco closed his eyes, hoping that his Shield Charm would hold up against the onslaught.

And then everything went black.


	17. On Your Head It Be

Chapter Seventeen: On Your Head It Be

* * *

Draco slowly came to, his ears ringing. When he opened his eyes, he found himself encased in darkness. He blinked hard once. Twice. No, he wasn't blind. There were faintly darker shapes where his hands hovered in front of his face. When someone squirmed beneath him, Draco tried to roll away, only to find himself unable to move more than an inch in either direction.

"Weasley?" he asked softly.

"Malfoy?" the squirming person answered.

"You all right?" Draco asked.

"Aside from being smushed under you, yes," Fred chuckled.

The rubble over Draco's head shifted a bit, and a small chink of dusty grey light peeked through the darkness. He winced when a fist-sized rock bounced off his head. When a trickle of something wet dripped into his eye, he realized he must be bleeding, though whether it was from the initial collapse or the recent shifting rocks, he wasn't sure.

"Draco!" Hermione's voice drifted down to him. She sounded frantic.

"I'm here, love," Draco called out.

Fred elbowed him in the stomach. "That was my ear you just bellowed in, dolt."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm not apologizing."

A huge wooden beam was lifted off of Draco's back, taking with it all of the rocks, wood, and various debris above. He took in a deep breath, marveling at how good it felt. Finally able to move, Draco rolled to his right, freeing Fred, then pushed himself to his knees. Hermione stood on a mound of rocks slightly above him, and he realized that he and Fred were inside a bubble-shaped hole. Hermione held her wand out in front of her, having just set down the mass of rubble she'd levitated.

"You okay, Hermione?" Draco asked, scrambling out of the hole.

Hermione nodded, but she had a look of distress etched in her features; Draco noticed tear tracks carved through the dirt streaking her face.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked in alarm.

She gulped and glanced toward the road. Draco followed her gaze, and his heart stopped when he saw the dust-coated head of red hair. The figure was still, the broken spectacles on his face askew. His eyes stared sightlessly into the cloudy sky. Percy was dead.

"Shit," Draco whispered. "Shit."

"What's going on?" Fred asked as he emerged above the debris. His gaze moved to his brother. "Perce!" He scrambled over to his brother's body and fell to his knees. "No! You're not dead!" He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Percy's chest. " _Ennervate!_ Damn it, we just got you back!"

Draco watched in an uncomfortable silence as Fred cried over his dead sibling. Hermione placed her hand on Fred's shoulder, and he pulled her into a crushing hug, burying his face in her shoulder. She patted his back soothingly, letting the typically jovial young man mourn.

Scanning their surroundings, Draco determined that they were currently out of danger. Apparently anyone who had witnessed the incident had written the quartet off as dead. In a way, he thought it benefited them, at least giving them a few minutes to recuperate.

"We should go," he finally whispered.

Hermione looked over at him. "Yeah, we've got to keep fighting."

"What about Percy?" Fred asked lowly. "I can't just leave him here."

"We'll come back for him, I promise," Hermione said.

Fred nodded. With another wave of his wand, Percy's body was encased in an impenetrable Shield Charm, and the group slowly made their way toward a main road, seeking another chance to fight. They were quickly greeted by a group of ten Death Eaters around the next corner. Draco recognized Crabbe's father, Goyle's father, the Lestrange brothers, Macnair, Rookwood, Wormtail, Mulciber, Rosier, and Rowle. Unfortunately, each of them had been near permanent fixtures at Malfoy Manor for the past year.

"Er, should we run?" Fred asked uncertainly.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you a damn troublemaker or not?" he demanded. "Pull out some of that genius you used against Umbridge, for Merlin's sake!"

Fred shrugged. "You asked for it."

With a quick downward swipe, several dozen Weasley's Whiz-Bangs shot from the end of his wand and exploded in the Death Eaters' faces. Four of them, Wormtail included, took off running, only to be pursued by most of the firework creatures. Fred laughed heartily at the cowards.

"Who's next?" he asked cheerfully.

Rookwood scowled at him. "You are."

"Don't think so." Another wave of his wand doused Rookwood in Firewhisky.

"Really?" Rookwood asked incredulously.

"Really." Fred raised an eyebrow, and slashed his wand across Rookwood's chest. " _Flagrate_ ," he said carelessly.

Rookwood burst into flames and ran screaming into an alleyway. Rosier rolled his eyes and followed his fellow Death Eater, calling out, " _Aguamenti_ ," as he went.

They were down to four. The Lestrange brothers, Mulciber, and Macnair.

"Anyone else care for a taste?" Fred asked.

Rabastan glared at Draco. "We're not through here," he muttered.

As the four Death Eaters turned to leave, Hermione raised her wand. " _Petrificus Totalus._ " All four men dropped to the ground, rigid as stone. Hermione approached them with a dangerous gleam in her eyes. "Personally, I hate the thought of killing anyone. Maybe the lot of you will have a chance at being decent human beings in the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's. _Obliviate_."

Impressed (and slightly frightened) of Hermione's ruthlessness and skill, Draco silently Stunned each of the Death Eaters. He turned to face the rest of his group just as a horrific scream echoed into the street from the house beside them. Without even checking with the others, Hermione dashed into the building. Draco ran after her with Fred on his heels. They arrived in the upstairs bedroom just in time to see Fenrir Greyback wiping his blood-covered mouth on his sleeve.

" _Bombarda Maxima!_ " Hermione shouted.

Greyback was blasted backward into the wall. The powerful spell propelled him through it, throwing more debris onto the street below. Draco watched as the feral werewolf picked himself up off the ground and snarled at them before limping away.

"Oh, Lavender," Hermione moaned.

Draco turned back to see Greyback's victim. Indeed, the gossipy Gryffindor was lying on the floor, blood seeping from a gaping hole in her neck. She sputtered and gasped for air like a fish out of water. Upon close examination, Draco knew the girl wouldn't survive her injuries, but she wasn't quite on the verge of death either. Lavender would die slowly and painfully unless someone stepped in.

"Hermione?"

"Can you help her, Draco?" Hermione asked tearfully.

Draco knelt on the floor, facing Hermione across Lavender's body. "No, I can't."

Hermione choked on a sob. "We can't just let her suffer."

"I know."

Lavender turned an appealing gaze on Hermione. "Stu — stup — " she choked out.

"Okay." Hermione nodded in understanding. "I'm so sorry, Lavender.."

The dying girl reached out a hand and rested it on Hermione's arm. Her blue eyes were full of agony.

Hermione raised her wand and pointed it at Lavender. But she didn't speak. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she fought to follow the girl's wishes. Draco knew Hermione well enough to know that she couldn't just utter the spell that would ultimately lead to this girl's death. He reached out and pushed her wand away.

" _Stupefy_."

Lavender's eyes closed and her jaw went slack. She still breathed shallowly, for the time being.

"Come on, 'Mione," Fred said gently.

Hermione nodded mutely. Draco stood up and offered her his hand, then the three companions exited the home and returned to the battleground that had once been Godric's Hollow.

In the few minutes they'd been inside, complete and utter chaos had broken out. Most of the houses on the block were little more than rubble. Several of them were on fire. Bodies of both Death Eaters and Order members littered the street. Draco averted his gaze. Even though he knew it wasn't true, he felt like every death was his fault. If only he hadn't let the Death Eaters into the school last year, if only Dumbledore were still alive, if only, if only, if only.

Hermione apparently noticed his distress, because she slipped her hand into his. Her expression was a mix of understanding, sympathy, and regret. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and they picked their way through the carnage in the street, Fred just behind them, to try to find Harry. Draco knew that the fighting couldn't continue as it was. If it did, he had little hope that there would be any surviving magical blood left at the end.

As the trio walked past the cemetery, Peeves swooped overhead toward a group of Death Eaters. He began dropping Snargaluff pods into their midst. As soon as the plants made contact, the Death Eaters' heads were engulfed in the slimy green worm-like tubers, making them easy pickings for the Order and DA members fighting them. Draco gave a weak smile at the cackling poltergeist's antics.

They returned to the town square, where the statue of Godric Gryffindor was in pieces. Very few people were engaged in battle; it appeared that they had spread out elsewhere, and Draco was perfectly fine with a break from all the dueling. Harry was at the far left side of the square, talking somberly with Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Harry!" Hermione broke away from Draco and ran toward her friend.

"Hermione," Harry sighed. "Are you all right?"

Hermione nodded. "Where's Ron?"

"He's with the rest of his family. They found Percy's body." He raked a hand through his hair in agitation.

"Where are they?" Fred asked. "I should be with them."

"Inside the church. It's the only place that's mostly intact and large enough for everyone."

Fred nodded and walked off in the direction of the church.

Harry sighed again. "It's not going well. I never wanted people to die for me."

Draco scowled at him. "You still don't get it, do you Potter? They didn't die for _you_. They died to protect their freedom, to prevent the rise of a madman. You just happen to be the face of the resistance."

"Still — "

"Harry!" Luna came running over to them, gasping for air. "You-Know-Who...Snape…"

"Where, Luna?" Harry asked sharply.

She pointed to a half-collapsed house at the end of the street she had just run down. Draco watched surprise flit across Harry's face, quickly followed by anger. He glared at the old house, a snarl on his lips.

"Potter? You know that house?" Draco asked warily.

Harry nodded. "That's the house where my parents died."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Interesting choice for a hideout."

"Come on, then." Harry marched away toward his old home.

"You coming, Luna?" Hermione asked as she started after Harry.

"No," Luna said airily. "I think I'll go find Neville."

Hermione grinned knowingly at the girl. "Things are going well between you then?"

Draco frowned. Longbottom and Lovegood? When had that happened?

Luna just waved her hand dismissively, smiling her dreamy smile, and walked away. Draco and Hermione caught up to Harry and followed him to the abandoned house where Voldemort had taken up shelter. The trio crouched beneath the shattered front window, listening carefully to what went on inside.

"...my Lord, their resistance is crumbling." Snape's drawl was unmistakable.

"And it is without your help," Voldemort replied. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there...almost."

"Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please."

Draco glanced at Harry, wondering what he was thinking upon hearing those words.

"I have a problem, Severus," Voldemort said, his quiet voice dangerous.

"What is it, my Lord? Whatever it is, I am sure I can help."

"Indeed. Tell me, Severus, why does the Elder Wand not work for me?"

"My — my Lord?" Snape asked, a hint of fear in his voice. "I do not understand. You — you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand."

"No," Voldemort snapped. "I have performed my usual magic. _I_ am extraordinary, but this wand...no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago. No difference."

Draco stared at Hermione, understanding dawning on him. He pointed at himself and Hermione nodded, a look of fear on her face. Draco felt in his gut that something horrible was about to happen to his godfather.

"I have thought long and hard, Severus...do you know why I have called you back from battle?"

"No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter."

"You sound like Lucius," Voldemort snarled. "Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I know his weakness, you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come."

Harry clenched his fists. Hermione, obviously sensing that Harry was about to do something reckless, placed a hand on his shoulder and shook her head fiercely.

"But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by someone other than yourself—"

"My instructions to the Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends — the more the better — but do not kill him," Voldemort interrupted. "But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable."

"My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But — let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can." Snape was stalling, the fear thick in his voice now.

"I have told you no!" shouted Voldemort. "My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!"

"My Lord, there can be no question, surely?"

"But there is a question, Severus. There is. Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?"

"I — I cannot answer that, my Lord."

"Can't you? My wand of yew did everything of which I asked it, Severus, except to kill Harry Potter. Twice it failed. Ollivander told me under torture of the twin cores, told me to take another's wand...I did so, but Lucius's wand shattered upon meeting Potter's."

"I — I have no explanation, my Lord."

"I sought a third wand, Severus," Voldemort continued. "The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore."

"My Lord — let me go to the boy — "

"All this long night when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," Voldemort interrupted loudly, "wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner...and I think I have the answer. Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen."

"My Lord," Snape begged.

"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine."

"My Lord!" Snape shouted.

"It cannot be any other way," Voldemort said with finality. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last."

Draco's eyes widened. He was going to kill Snape. But the Elder Wand didn't belong to Snape; he was going to murder an innocent man. Harry caught Draco's eyes and shook his head regretfully. He was right, and Draco knew it. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't rush in there and save Snape. Voldemort would probably kill both of them, and then he really would be the master of the Elder Wand. That couldn't happen.

"Kill," Voldemort said.

A bloodcurdling scream rent the air; Harry flinched at the sound.

"I regret it," Voldemort said without a hint of remorse.

The _pop!_ of Apparation was heard then, and the trio rushed inside the ruined house.

"Snape!" Harry cried out.

Draco entered the room, then immediately wanted to leave. Snape was slumped against the wall, two large gashes in his neck pouring blood. Draco assumed Nagini had done it. Snape stared at his three former students, defeat in his eyes.

"Professor," Draco whispered.

Snape held a hand against the wounds in his throat. "You have to know," he gurgled at Harry. "I did it all…"

"Snape? Hold on, I can help you." Harry looked to Hermione, hoping for the impossible.

"Potter," Snape rasped. He shook his head feebly. "I did it all for your mother."

"My — my mother?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I've loved her all my life," Snape whispered as his life drained away. He focused on Harry's face, staring at him with a determined focus. "You have your mother's eyes."

Draco watched Snape's eyes flutter shut, and his hand fell from his neck. His godfather was dead, and he hadn't done anything to stop it. He fell to his knees beside the man, tears filling his vision, but refusing to let anyone see him cry. Hermione stifled a sob behind him.

"You have fought valiantly." Voldemort's cold voice sounded throughout Godric's Hollow. "Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the cemetery. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

"Don't listen to him!" Draco said emphatically.

"It'll be all right," Hermione added frantically. "He's gone right now...we can think of a new plan."

Harry didn't speak, but he followed as Draco and Hermione led the way out of the house and across town to the church. The town was deserted except for the few people that were bringing the bodies of the dead into the church. They entered the hallowed space. Draco's heart was heavy. He didn't know how this would play out, but it wasn't looking very good for their side at the moment.

The sheer number of the dead was overwhelming. The deceased were set along the far left wall in a row. A group of redheaded people indicated the location of Percy's body. After a quick headcount, Draco felt a rush of very confusing relief, realizing that none of the other Weasleys had perished. A little further down from the Weasleys, Draco recognized the boy that had followed Harry around with a camera during their second year. Colin Creevey. Just past the boy, he noticed Lavender, her face now peaceful in death. Beyond her, Aberforth Dumbledore lay with his eyes still open. The last of the Dumbledore family, dead. Professor Flitwick lay beside him.

"Neville?" he heard Harry say softly. "Can you send someone to fetch Snape? He's in the house at the end of Godric Lane."

Draco shook his head and turned away from the line of the dead. What he found along the opposite wall shocked him. A row of the deceased Death Eaters ran the length of the church. After everything that had been done to them at the hands of the Death Eaters, the fighters for the side of light found compassion, and showed the Death Eaters a respect that Voldemort certainly would never have done. If he had been unsure about which side was right, Draco was certain now. For what kind of evil person would honor the dead of their enemy?

He looked closer at the row of Death Eaters. He recognized Rookwood's body, very badly burnt. Beside him was what appeared to be a sea urchin, and Draco chuckled as he remembered the spell Percy had cast on the Minister of Magic to tender his resignation. A few bodies down, Draco recognized two people, and his heart stopped. They were still dressed in full Death Eater regalia. Crabbe and Goyle, his two most loyal friends.

"No!" he gasped.

Hermione looked to where his gaze was turned. "Oh, Draco…"

The sight of two more people he'd cared about lying dead on the floor caused him to feel unbelievable fury. He turned on his heel and stormed back outside, where he collapsed on the steps of the church. Hermione ran out after him.

"Draco."

"Damn it!" he shouted.

Hermione sat beside him and wrapped her arms around his chest. "I'm so sorry."

Her concern and empathy broke the wall he'd built up to contain his emotions, and a loud sob choked its way out of his throat. "I know they were brutes, but…"

"They were your friends," Hermione said softly.

Draco nodded. "I cared about them," he whispered, tears running down his face. "They cared about me."

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder. "We can find out who did it. They'll be held accountable — "

"No. The one who is accountable for their deaths is You-Know-Who. I swear to Merlin, he'll pay for this." Draco wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist. "Why didn't I try to save them when I had the chance?"

"I don't think you could have," she answered softly. "It was one thing to rescue Blaise and Theo, but it would have been too suspicious if Crabbe and Goyle suddenly disappeared, too."

"I suppose you're right. If I'd rescued Crabbe and Goyle instead, it could very well be Blaise and Theo in there. It was too much to hope that anyone would emerge from this unharmed."

Hermione smiled sadly. "Doesn't mean we all weren't hoping for it."

The two of them stayed on the steps of the church for a few more minutes before going back inside. He refused to further examine the dead Death Eaters for fear that he'd see his parents. They may have chosen the wrong side in the war, but he didn't want them dead. Draco sat in one of the pews, Hermione still by his side. He had just closed his eyes when a shout from the church doors echoed off the high ceiling.

"We need some help over here!"

Draco turned around. Three people he barely recognized were carrying in a man covered in blood. His long black hair fell in greasy curtains on either side of his head. Could it be? Snape?

"He's alive?" Neville shouted as he ran toward the group.

"Yes," a tall blonde answered. "Just barely."

"Someone find Madam Pomfrey for me," Neville ordered.

The trio gently laid Snape down on an empty bench, and Neville immediately went to work on his former professor. In a few moments, Madam Pomfrey was at his side, taking over the care of the wounded man. Draco sat back with a sigh. He didn't dare hope that Snape would live. He had been very badly injured. What were the chances that Madam Pomfrey would be able to salvage his life now? Interrupting his morbid thoughts, a high, cold voice sounded across Godric's Hollow.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."

Hermione stood up abruptly, looking anxiously around the church at everyone. "Where's Harry?" she shouted.

Several people looked at her with pity. Most had already made their way to the doors and were flocking back to the town square. Draco followed them, tightly clutching Hermione's hand. The town square was filled with Voldemort and his remaining Death Eaters. Apparently the dementors, goblins, and giants had dispersed when the battle ended.

"The battle is won," Voldemort said, holding his wand to his throat to amplify his voice. Nagini was draped over his shoulders, now free from her protective bubble. "You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anybody who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Join me now, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven. Join me in the new world we shall build together."

The members of the Order and DA stared at Voldemort silently. Nobody moved to cross the space dividing the two parties. Voldemort scowled and continued speaking.

"Come." He waved somebody forward through his crowd of Death Eaters.

Hagrid stumbled as he was pushed to the front of the queue. In his arms, he held a body. A body with familiar messy black hair and broken glasses. A body with a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

"No!"

Draco spun around, surprised that Professor McGonagall had been the one to scream so ferociously. Her shout drew forth other cries of despair and longing from those around him.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted in agony.

"No, Harry!" Ginny was sobbing, kneeling in the street.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort thundered. "You see? Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" Ron shouted from where he stood with his family, his face screwed up in defiance.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of Godric's Hollow!" Voldemort refuted. "Killed while trying to save himself!"

Another shout of defiance burst from the front of the crowd, and Draco watched in astonished silence as Neville Longbottom broke free and charged at Voldemort. Quick as a flash, one of the Death Eaters disarmed him, and he fell to the ground in a heap.

"And who is this?" Voldemort sneered. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

Bellatrix cackled gleefully from where she stood beside Voldemort. "It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble. The son of the Aurors, remember?"

"Ah, yes, I remember," Voldemort said, gently stroking Nagini's head. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?"

"So what if I am?" Neville shouted angrily.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," Neville snarled. "Dumbledore's Army!""

A cheer rose up from the crowd behind him. Voldemort looked absolutely livid at the vocal rebellion. He waved his wand to silence the crowd.

"Very well. If that is your choice, Longbottom, then we revert to the original plan. On your head it be."

Voldemort raised his wand and aimed it at Neville just as a beautiful cry was heard over Godric's Hollow. Fawkes, Dumbledore's loyal phoenix, flew overhead and dropped something at Voldemort's feet. He leaned down and picked up the item. It dangled uselessly from his fingers: the Sorting Hat.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts," Voldemort cackled. "There will be no more Houses! The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone now. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"

He took a few steps forward and jammed the hat onto Neville's head. The Death Eaters laughed at the degrading act. "Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to oppose me."

Then the Sorting Hat was on fire. People began screaming, none louder than Neville's grandmother. Just as Draco was certain Neville was going to die, something miraculous happened. He flung the hat from his head and pulled the sword of Gryffindor from its depths. He took one lunging step towards Voldemort, and at the last second swerved toward Nagini. In one swift slash, the snake was beheaded. Voldemort shouted with rage.

Another cheer rose up from Draco's side of the square. But it was much too loud to only be for Neville's slaughter of the snake, the final Horcrux. He looked over just in time to see Harry pick himself up off the ground from where he'd flung himself out of Hagrid's arms. As the crowd realized that Harry lived — and Draco stared openmouthed at the Boy Who Apparently Couldn't Die — battle broke out again.


	18. The Death of the Dark Lord

Chapter Eighteen: The Death of the Dark Lord

* * *

Draco was almost immediately separated from Hermione. She was swept away by the crowd around them and pulled into a fierce duel with Theo's dad. Draco didn't like that one bit. He was supposed to be keeping her safe, and instead she was off fighting without him. He tried to force his way to her side and found his path blocked by none other than his father.

"Draco," the man sneered.

"Me?" Draco pointed to himself. "You want to talk to me? Whatever for? I'm a blood traitor, and everyone knows that Malfoys don't associate with those lowlifes."

"Shut your mouth, you ungrateful wretch," Lucius snapped. "I simply wanted the pleasure of disposing of you myself."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "So you've got a new wand, then?"

Lucius gave him a withering look. "No, I've decided to join a magical war and fight the Muggle way," he said derisively.

"Well, if that's your prerogative," Draco answered, shrugging.

Rolling his eyes, the Death Eater withdrew his wand from his fancy emerald-encrusted cane. " _Avada Kedavra_."

Fortunately, Draco had been expecting that from his father. Lucius Malfoy was, if nothing else, entirely predictable. He had put up a wordless Shield Charm the moment he'd realized who he was facing. The Killing Curse hit his shield and dissipated harmlessly.

"I really don't want to have to kill you," Draco said flatly.

"As if you could," Lucius sneered.

"Oh, I have the ability, thanks to you forcing me to become a Death Eater. I just also happen to have a moral compass. I suppose you were born without one."

"You really should watch your tongue," Lucius said.

At the same time he was speaking, he cast a spell wordlessly, one Draco had never seen used before. Draco was blasted off of his feet and thrown like a rag doll against the brick wall of the building behind him. When he made contact, he heard something in his back snap rather loudly. Instead of the searing agony he expected, there was nothing. Rather than feeling relieved, as he supposed he ought to, he panicked.

His body fell roughly to the ground and he landed on his back. Draco couldn't move. He kept telling his arms and legs to push him back to his feet, but nothing happened. He told his vocal chords to move so he could call out to Hermione, but that didn't work, either. He could swivel his eyes, but that was the extent of his muscular ability. He was in serious trouble.

When Draco began feeling dizzy, he realized that he had not just been rendered immobile. Apparently, the curse his father had used on him was a combination of _Sectumsempra_ and _Bombarda._ He was bleeding out. Not again. Suffering the curse once was bad enough. And he just lay there in the street, being passed by, almost entirely ignored. He tried to look around, but with his limited range of vision, he couldn't see Hermione anywhere. Draco was going to die alone, without ever having told Hermione how he really felt.

Draco's eyes fluttered shut, and everything went black.

* * *

After a fierce battle against Nott Sr., Hermione caught a brief reprieve in the fighting. She spun around, searching the dueling pairs for the familiar head of white-blonde hair. When she couldn't see Draco anywhere, she began shoving through the crowd to where she had last been with him. What she saw caused her heart to lodge itself in her throat and her stomach to drop to her feet.

"Draco!" Hermione ran over to where his prone body lay and fell to her knees. He was covered in blood, a sight too reminiscent of his memory in the bathroom from sixth year. He was pale — far more pale than was normal — and didn't appear to be breathing. "No!"

She looked around at her friends and allies for anyone that might be available to help, but everyone was otherwise engaged. Hermione choked back a sob. Draco couldn't die. She hadn't told him that she loved him. It was too soon.

So Hermione did the only thing she could think to do. She began tracing his deep wounds with her wand and chanting, " _Vulnera Sanentur_ ," repeatedly. Luckily, the counter-curse worked as it was supposed to this time, and the gashes crisscrossing Draco's body sealed up as the blood returned to his veins. His eyes fluttered open and focused on Hermione, but he still didn't move or speak.

"Draco? What happened?" Hermione asked softly.

He didn't answer, he just stared at her.

" _Iniuriam Revelio_."

She watched as a semi-transparent copy of Draco's body rose from and hovered just above him. A bright red light pulsed in the middle of his back. Hermione twirled her wand and the vision before her turned over. She flicked her wand twice, and the image zoomed in on the blinking red light, providing a detailed look at Draco's injury. Hermione frowned when she realized that his spinal cord had been severed. She didn't know how to fix an injury of this magnitude.

"I don't know how," she muttered to him. "I can't fix this."

Draco blinked.

"I…I'm not going to leave you out here, though. I'll take you to the church. You'll be safe there."

* * *

As Hermione levitated Draco and began directing him toward the church, his thoughts were churning. It was maddening to not be able to communicate when his mind was perfectly intact. He wanted to tell Hermione not to take him out of the fight. He wanted to beg her not to go back to the fight without him. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her. But his body refused to respond.

Hermione carefully laid him down on the pew beside Snape. To Draco's complete surprise, Snape was awake and sitting up like he hadn't just been attacked by a giant snake.

"Miss Granger, what happened here?" His voice sounded hoarse, though that made sense considering everything.

"I'm not sure, Professor. We were separated, and when I found him...he'd had _Sectumsempra_ cast at him again. I was able to heal his injuries from that, but he still can't move or speak. His spinal cord has been severed, but I don't know how it happened." Hermione spoke rapidly and softly.

Snape nodded. "Leave him here, and I'll see what I can do."

Hermione nodded. "I—are you sure?"

"Yes," he snapped. "Just go."

Draco wanted to shout for her not to leave; it was his job to protect her, and since he was currently incapable of doing so, he didn't want her out of his sight. But Hermione turned and left the church without looking back.

* * *

Hermione couldn't bear to look into Draco's eyes as she returned to the battle. She hoped with everything in her that Snape would be able to help him. She'd still love Draco even if he were permanently paralyzed. An injury wouldn't change that. But the dynamic of their relationship would change, and that was something Hermione wasn't ready to face yet.

When she reached the town square again, she found Ginny and Luna were engaged in a fight with Bellatrix. Her two friends had been reduced to simply blocking Bellatrix's curses; the madwoman was simply too quick with her wand. Cackling wickedly, she aimed her wand toward Ginny. Hermione tackled her redheaded friend to the ground as the blinding green light of the Killing Curse soared overhead. She almost didn't dare to stand up again, but was far too intrigued when she heard Molly Weasley.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

Molly was blasting people out of her way in order to reach Bellatrix. The crazy witch turned to face her new opponent as Hermione helped Ginny to her feet. Then she, Ginny, and Luna watched as Molly began dueling Bellatrix fiercely, with a power and determination none of them had ever seen from her.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you," Bellatrix sneered, "when Mummy's gone the same way as Percy?"

Molly glared at the woman, refusing to be distracted from her obvious goal of ending her. "You—will—never—touch—our—children—again!" she screamed, punctuating each word with a new curse.

Bellatrix's snarl slowly morphed into an expression of confusion, and then fear, as Molly advanced on her. And then Bellatrix had moved to defense, able only to block the ferocious barrage of spells coming at her from Molly's wand. Bellatrix raised her wand higher in a moment of desperation, and Molly's next spell hit her square in the chest. A look of surprise engulfed Bellatrix's features, and then she fell backward, dead at last.

At the sight, several people from the Order and the DA cheered loudly; next to Voldemort, she was their greatest foe. An angry scream pierced the air when Voldemort noticed what had caused the cheering around him. He waved his wand in an angry swipe, aiming to injure as many people in the crowd as he could, whether they be his enemies or his Death Eaters.

" _PROTEGO!_ "

Harry broke away from his duel against Macnair to put up a Shield Charm around everyone in the courtyard and protect them from Voldemort's wrath.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry said, looking around at his friends, family, and enemies. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Voldemort glared at the dark-haired boy. "Potter doesn't mean that. That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," Harry said flatly. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good."

"One of us?" Voldemort sneered. "You think it will be you, do you, the Boy Who Has Survived by Accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" Harry asked, moving sideways. Voldemort began mirroring his movements, the two circling each other but keeping a wide berth between them. "Accident, when I decided to fight you three years ago when you returned? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"

"Accidents!" Voldemort insisted. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," Harry said, completely calm as they continued circling one another. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people— "

"But you did not!" Voldemort shouted.

"—I meant to, and that's what it did. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding anymore? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?" Harry might have seemed smug if his expression hadn't been so deadly serious.

"You dare — "

"Yes, I dare," Harry interrupted. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

Hermione smirked. She knew that Harry's calm demeanor was only meant to taunt Voldemort further. As if his words weren't enough to send the psychotic murderer into a rage.

"Is it love again?" Voldemort asked with a mocking laugh. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me from stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter—and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you from dying now when I strike?"

Hermione snarled at his words. She was more than willing. She moved to step forward, but found herself held back by Luna and Ginny, one friend on each arm. She frowned, but conceded to them, and let Harry continue his verbal battle with the Dark Lord.

"Just one thing," Harry was saying.

"If it is not love that will save you this time," Voldemort mocked, "you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both," Harry answered.

Voldemort's red eyes widened. "You think you know more magic than I do? Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh," Harry chuckled, "he dreamed of it. But he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."

"You mean he was weak!" Voldemort taunted. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No," Harry answered, shaking his head, "he was cleverer than you, a better wizard, a better man."

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!" Voldemort shouted, attempting to brag. "Dumbledore is dead! His body decays in the marble tomb at Hogwarts Castle. I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"

"Yes, Dumbledore's dead," Harry said, nodding, "but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "What childish dream is this?"

"Severus Snape wasn't yours." Harry gave him a hard stare, finally stopping his circling and facing his enemy. "Snape was Dumbledore's. Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"

Voldemort didn't answer.

"Snape's Patronus is a doe," Harry continued. "The same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized. He asked you to spare her life, didn't he?" Harry almost sounded as though he were scolding Voldemort for failing to study for an exam.

"He desired her, that was all!" Voldemort protested. "But when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him— "

"Of course I told you that," a new voice interrupted from the crowd. People gasped as Snape stepped forward to stand beside Harry. "But I was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened Lily, and I've been working against you ever since. Dumbledore was already dying when I killed him!"

"Severus?" Voldemort asked incredulously. "You're supposed to be dead. I ordered it."

Snape shook his head at Voldemort. "Potter's right, though. Because he was willing to sacrifice his life for all of these people, you cannot hurt them. You cannot hurt me."

"It matters not!" Voldemort shouted, his eyes wild. "It matters not whether you were mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles you tried to put in my path! I crushed Dumbledore as I crushed Lily Potter, your supposed great love!" Voldemort turned to Harry again. "Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!"

Harry lifted an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me!" Voldemort exclaimed, as if it were a new revelation to those who stood before him. "He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy—I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. All I have to do is kill Snape, and the Elder Wand—the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny—will truly be mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"

Harry nodded nonchalantly. "Yeah, it did. You're right. But before you try to kill me and Snape, I'd advise you to think about what you've done...think, and try for some remorse, Riddle."

"What is this?" Voldemort sneered.

"It's your last chance," Harry said quietly. "It's all you've got left. I've seen what you'll be otherwise. Be a man. Try for some remorse."

"You dare— "

"Yes, I dare!" Harry finally shouted, giving in to a flare of temper. "Because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle!'

Voldemort adjusted his grip on the Elder Wand and pointed it harder at Harry.

"That wand still won't work for you even if you do manage to murder Snape." Harry gestured to the greasy-haired man beside him. "Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."

"He killed— " Voldemort tried.

"Aren't you listening?" Harry asked, exasperated with the wicked man who clearly lived in a fantasy world. "Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!" Voldemort rationalized gleefully. "I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"

"You still don't get it, do you Riddle?" Harry asked calmly, pity in his eyes. "Possessing the wand isn't enough. Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard...The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance."

Voldemort stared angrily at Harry. "You lie."

"The true master of the Elder Wand is Draco Malfoy."

Intense and confused whispers flitted through the crowd. Hermione felt a pang of panic as she thought of Draco, lying motionless in the church. She was certain that, while the Elder Wand wasn't truly Voldemort's to use, he would still be able to kill Harry with it, since Harry wasn't the wand's master. She had been sure that Draco would willingly hand over the allegiance of the wand to Harry, but it hadn't happened. And now he was going to die. All of their efforts had been for nothing.

Lucius Malfoy eagerly stepped to his Lord's side. "My Lord, the wand has no allegiance then." He grinned maliciously. "I killed Draco only an hour ago."

Voldemort's face filled with glee. Panic flashed briefly in Harry's eyes, but was quickly replaced by his calm demeanor.

"Then your argument is invalid, Potter!" Voldemort crowed. "It doesn't matter who holds the allegiance of this wand, and I will still kill you."

"You know what?" Harry asked. "Fine. You just don't get it. If I die, everyone in the world will be safe from you, because I will die willingly and intending to protect everyone from you. You won't be able to hurt anyone, and you'll still be defeated, since nobody will be afraid of you. So go ahead. I'm okay with it."

"That's not necessary, Potter."

Draco sauntered forward to stand on Harry's other side. He smirked at Voldemort, then pulled out his wand and handed it to Harry. "Here you go. The allegiance of every wand previously in my possession is now yours. Enjoy."

"No!" Voldemort shouted.

Draco watched with detached amusement as Voldemort shouted a curse in his fury right as Harry fell back on his favored defensive spell.

" _Avada Kedavra!_ "

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

A bright red light burst from the hawthorn wand that used to belong to Draco. A blinding green light blasted from the Elder Wand, and the two spells collided mid-air. With an overpowering flash, and a blast of wind that knocked Harry, Draco, Snape and Voldemort off of their feet, the spells repelled each other.

When Draco regained his footing, he noticed one other person in the circle remained on the ground.

It was over.

Voldemort was dead.

Harry turned to look at him, a wide grin on his face. He reached out a hand, and Draco shook it.

"Perfect timing, mate," he said, handing Draco his wand back. "That was bloody brilliant."

Draco preened under the compliment. "I do try, Potter."

The two recent friends turned toward the crowd of victors. Draco barely paid the fleeing Death Eaters any attention when his eyes found Hermione. She ran to him and threw herself into his arms, and he spun her around in a circle.

"Good Godric, Draco!" Hermione laughed. "You did it!"

Instead of answering with words, Draco pressed his lips to Hermione's, devouring her hungrily. Her hands twined in his hair as his arms slipped around her waist, pulling her closer. It was a kiss to rival all fairy tale kisses. At least, Draco thought it was.

Several minutes later, when they pulled apart for breath, Draco nuzzled her neck and whispered, "I love you, Hermione Granger."

Hermione pulled away from him and placed her hands on either side of his face. She looked into his grey eyes for a long time. "I love you too, Draco Malfoy."

"Feel like a private celebration party?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Hermione released him, throwing her head back and laughing. "You are incorrigible!"

Draco smirked. "I never claimed to be redeemable."

Hermione kissed him again, slowly, sweetly. "Too bad for you, then," she whispered against his lips. "Because you, Draco Malfoy, have earned your redemption."

"Is that so?" he asked. "On whose authority?"

"Mine," Harry answered, coming up behind him.

Draco turned and looked at him. "Oh, thank you Potter! It's what I've always wanted: your approval," he said, his voice dripping sarcasm.

Harry chuckled. "Shut up, Malfoy. I only meant that I'll make sure everyone knows whose side of the war you were really on."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Thought I made it fairly obvious there at the end."

Harry shook his head. "You're impossible."

"I never claimed to be— " Draco started.

"Redeemable. Yeah, yeah, I know," Harry laughed.

For a moment, the three of them stood there in a companionable silence. Then Harry cleared his throat and rubbed at his scar uncomfortably. Draco and Hermione watched him curiously.

"Er, Malfoy, there's something you should know." Harry ran a hand through his messy and dirty hair.

"Oh?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded. "It's about your mother."

Draco stiffened and searched Harry's face for a hint of what the news could possibly be. Harry's expression gave away nothing except for his apprehension. "Well?"

"She saved my life in the graveyard." Harry took a deep breath. "After Voldemort hit me with the Killing Curse, he sent her over to make sure I was dead. Instead of informing him of my living status, she asked about you. When I told her you were fine, she told Voldemort I was dead. If she hadn't done that, I very well might be dead now."

Draco's eyebrows had disappeared into his fringe. "She...she asked about me?"

Harry nodded again. "She's inside the church now, if you want to see her."

Draco locked eyes with Hermione. She smiled sweetly and gave him a short kiss. "Go on. I'll be fine."

He nodded, then turned on his heel and hurried toward the church. When he entered, he spotted Narcissa kneeling beside the bodies of his friends, Crabbe and Goyle. She was wiping tears from her face.

"Mother?"

Narcissa spun around with a gasp, her hand pressed to her chest. "Draco!"

He took a tentative step toward her, and she gracefully got to her feet before hurrying over to him and engulfing him in a hug. They stayed that way for quite a while. Draco hadn't realized until he was reunited with his mother just how much he'd missed her over the last couple of months.

"Draco, I'm so sorry. I never wanted any of this to happen." Narcissa wiped another tear from her cheek.

"Mother, you don't have to apologize. I know you would have left Lucius a long time ago if you had been able to." Draco rubbed his mother's arm soothingly.

Narcissa nodded. "He would never have allowed me to go. Divorce isn't allowed in the Wizarding world when a husband and wife have been Bonded. Even if we'd left, he would have been able to find us through the Bond."

"I know. You don't have to worry anymore— "

Draco was cut off when the doors of the church flew open with a bang. The mother and son turned to see Lucius standing in the doorway, a furious snarl on his face.

"No, Narcissa, you won't have to worry anymore. You'll both be dead," Lucius said menacingly while withdrawing his wand from his cane.

"Lucius, stop. I won't let you kill her," Draco said, pushing his mother behind him.

Lucius laughed. "I easily defeated you the last time we stood face to face. What makes you think this time will be any different?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Nobody threatens my family."

Lucius raised an amused eyebrow. "Am I not your family now?"

"Quite frankly, I'm going to pretend that you never were."

"Stand aside, boy! I will not be made a fool of by an insolent witch!" Lucius snarled.

"But you will be made a fool of by an insolent wizard?" Draco asked amusedly. "Interesting."

"You don't know who you're dealing with," Lucius insisted angrily.

"No?" Draco asked, feigning surprise. "I could have sworn you were Lucius Malfoy, infamous Death Eater and Blood Supremacist."

"Enough!" Lucius roared. " _Expelliarmus!_ "

Draco was taken unaware when his wand flew from his hand and into his father's. For all he knew, his mother didn't have a wand either, which meant that they really might both end up dead. But, refusing to back down even when disarmed, Draco straightened his shoulders and stared Lucius in the eye. Lucius tossed Draco's wand into the corner on his left, grinning triumphantly.

"Just because the Dark Lord is dead doesn't mean your side has won. Someone else will rise to power, and then you and your precious blood traitors and Mudbloods will be at our mercy once more."

"You really have lost your mind, haven't you?" Draco scoffed.

Lucius sneered at him, but didn't comment. He raised his wand and aimed it at Draco's heart. His mouth opened, and he began to utter the fatal words.

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ "

Lucius's body stiffened and tilted forward, and he crashed to the ground at Draco's feet. Draco stared at the person in the doorway, someone he hadn't expected to see.

"Blaise?"

"Hey, Draco." Blaise shrugged.

"What're you doing here?" Draco stepped around his father's body to briefly embrace his friend.

Blaise smirked at him. "You really thought Theo and I were going to let you be the only good Slytherin? That wouldn't look very good for us, you know."

Draco chuckled. "Honestly, I just thought you'd both try to find somewhere safe to hide. Not that you're cowards, or anything— "

"Chill, Draco," Blaise said. "Me and Theo were in hiding for a while. We hadn't planned on leaving, actually, but we happened to overhear that Weasley, the one with the stupid glasses, when he was told about the battle taking place here. We decided to come along."

"Well, thank you," Draco said sincerely.

Blaise smirked at him again. "So, you and Granger. That's really a thing?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "What of it, mate?"

"She any good?"

"That's none of your bloody business," Draco snarled. "Don't talk about her like that."

Blaise held up both of his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Whoa, calm down. It was a joke."

Draco shook his head. "It wasn't very funny."

"Sorry."

"Is Theo all right?" Draco none-too-subtly changed the subject.

"Yeah. A bit shaken up, but otherwise fine." Blaise shrugged.

"That's good." Draco turned to face his mother. "Are you all right, Mother?"

Narcissa nodded. "I'll be fine. Eventually."

Draco frowned at the paralyzed body of his father on the ground. "What are we going to do about him?"

"He'll go to Azkaban, I assume," Narcissa said quietly.

He ran his hand through his hair. "But is that enough? The dementors won't be there anymore. I've heard that the plan is to attempt to destroy them."

"Good riddance," Narcissa snapped. "Either way, I think it'll be enough. I can't imagine that anyone will want there to be even the smallest chance of any Death Eaters escaping prison. Everything will turn out all right."

"What about…" Draco folded his arms across his chest. "Is there a way to break the Bond between the two of you? I want you to be happy, but if you're still Bonded to him, you can't move on."

"That's very sweet of you," Narcissa said, "but it's unnecessary."

Draco nodded.

"I think I'm ready to go home," Narcissa said. "Draco, if there's anyone that needs a place to stay, tell them that Malfoy Manor is open. I'll have the house elves clean out all Dark artifacts immediately."

Draco grinned at her. "You're pretty amazing, Mother. I'll pass the message along."

Narcissa walked to the church doors, placing her hand on Draco's shoulder for a moment as she passed him. "I love you, son."

He was startled at her words. He couldn't remember the last time his mother had said those three words to him; of course, Lucius likely wouldn't have allowed it, so it made sense in a way. It felt surprisingly good to hear it.

Turning around, he slung his arm around Blaise's shoulders while wordlessly summoning his wand. "Come on, let's go round up some war heroes."


	19. Settling Down

Chapter Nineteen: Settling Down

* * *

The next several months flew by in a blur for Draco. He had accompanied Hermione, Harry, and Ron back to Godric's Hollow to begin repairs; in the meantime, Narcissa had opened Malfoy Manor into a place of refuge for the displaced residents. No, life wasn't anything like he'd thought it would be. It was much better.

Before he had time to register it, August had come and gone. Even though it seemed a bit impractical, and definitely far-fetched, he decided that it would be best if he returned to Hogwarts to redo his seventh year. Out of the members of the Golden Trio, only Hermione agreed with him.

Draco grinned as he packed his trunk. He would be meeting Hermione at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters in less than an hour. That alone was enough to make hi happy, but when McGonagall had appointed them Head Boy and Girl respectively, Draco knew that this was the start of a much better life. He was determined to make it work, for he didn't want to ever risk losing Hermione. After everything they'd been through, they deserved to be happy.

Sooner than he thought possible, Draco was Apparating to King's Cross with his mother. They stood in front of the glorious scarlet train; after a short pause, Narcissa engulfed him in a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm so proud of you," she murmured. "You have become a better man than I dared to dream."

Draco swallowed past the lump that had grown in his throat. "Thank you. All I ever wanted was for you and Father to be proud of me." He pulled back. "But since it no longer matters what he thinks of us, your approval is more than enough."

Narcissa smiled fondly at him. "Take care of Miss Granger while you're gone."  
He fought back the blush that threatened to stain his face. "Mother, not here!" he hissed.

She chuckled. "You _do_ plan on keeping her around, don't you?"

Draco nodded. "For as long as she wants to stay."

"Then we will make sure she always feels welcome."

"There's just one thing," he muttered uncomfortably. "I don't know that she'll ever be comfortable visiting the manor."

"Yes, I had thought of that. I'm actually going to move into our vacation home in Edinburgh."

"Really?" Draco was rather surprised.

Narcissa nodded. "As much as I've loved living at the manor over the years myself, this past year has left too many scars behind, and I don't want to relive those awful memories any longer."

"That makes perfect sense. So I'll see you at Christmas?"

"Absolutely. I'll meet you here."

"I love you, Mother."

"I know, Draco. I love you, too."

With that, Draco turned and climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express. He looked back for one final glance at his mother before making his way to the Head's compartment. As he drew closer, he couldn't help all of the thoughts that flitted through his head at the idea of being able to spend so much time with Hermione. They would have shared quarters at the school, completely private from the rest of the student body. A part of him wondered if Potter had bribed McGonagall into allowing it even though she was aware of his relationship with Hermione. Potter knew how much Draco loathed being apart from her, so maybe he'd pulled a few strings. If that was the case, Draco was very grateful.

When he slid open the compartment door, Hermione was already waiting for him. "Draco!" She flung her arms around him.

He hugged her tightly. "I missed you, love."

Instead of a reply, Hermione pulled back and kissed him. Draco slid the compartment door closed with his foot and moved further into the train compartment. He maneuvered them so that he was sitting and Hermione straddled his lap. They spent a long time becoming reacquainted with each other's lips.

* * *

Hermione had opted to spend Christmas with Draco and Narcissa, by some miracle. Draco was almost deliriously happy, but he did a fairly good job of hiding it from her. He had an inkling that Hermione would find his giddiness far from endearing.

They had spent the last several days goofing around in the snow, then sipping hot cocoa by the fireplace to warm back up. Now it was Christmas Eve. Draco couldn't wait to give Hermione her present. He had argued with himself for months over whether it was the right choice, but in the end his mother had convinced him that it was perfect.

He waited in front of the library fireplace; it was Hermione's favorite room in the house—not too surprising, really—so he figured it was the perfect place to give her the gift. Draco didn't wait for very long. At exactly eight o'clock, Hermione strode into the library, looking as beautiful as ever. She greeted him with a soft kiss.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself," she replied.

"So, I know it's a bit early, but I really want to give you your Christmas present tonight. Is that okay?" Draco asked, feigning calmness. Inside, he was a mess of nerves.

"Of course," Hermione said. She pulled a small box out of a hidden pocket in her red dress. "I actually wanted to do the same thing."

Draco grinned. "Of course you did." After a pause, he added, "D'you want to go first?"

"Sure." She handed him the box wrapped in silver paper.

He quickly opened it, and was startled to see a silver ring. It was engraved with Ancient Runes, and Draco instantly knew that it spelled "Forever." Did she know what giving him this type of gift usually meant in pure-blood society? He decided that there was no way she could know. Who would have told her, anyway?

"It's got protective enchantments," Hermione said as he lifted the ring from the box. "And if you twist it clockwise on your finger three times, it will alert me that you want to see me. If you twist it counter-clockwise three times, it will alert me that you are in danger."

Draco nodded. So, no, she didn't realize what her gift implied. He didn't plan on telling her, either. "Thank you," he said, sliding it onto his left ring finger. "It's wonderful." He punctuated his statement with a lingering kiss.

When they pulled away, Draco retrieved Hermione's gift from the desk in the corner of the room. She eyed the small, unwrapped box with curiosity; the emotion only grew on her face when he didn't immediately hand it over.

"I've been thinking a lot about what to get you," Draco started. "I didn't want to get you some meaningless trinket, or even a book." He grinned at Hermione's dramatic gasp. "After everything we've been through this year, I wanted to make sure that you always had somewhere safe to go to, no matter what. So, your gift comes in two parts."

Hermione's brow furrowed as she attempted to decipher the meaning of his words. To stave off any potential questions, Draco popped open the box to reveal a glittering sapphire embedded in a delicate silver band. She didn't yet know it, but the ring had belonged to his great-great-aunt. Melania Black nèe Macmillan had been married to Arcturus Black; it was an arranged marriage, an attempt to keep the bloodlines pure. Melania had not supported Arcturus' pure-blood viewpoints, but was not verbal about her own opinions enough to be burned off the family tree. The ring had originally been a gift from Melania's father to her mother. She had inherited it after her mother passed away, but had not handed it down to her own children upon her own death. Instead, her will stipulated that the ring would only be obtainable by her first female relative that did not support Blood Supremacy. Andromeda hadn't wanted it, so Narcissa eventually inherited it. She had recently given it to Draco for this very moment.

"I am far from perfect. I've spent most of my life making all the wrong decisions, but I've been able to change that because of you. You make me a better man; you make me want to make the right choices, even if they're the hard ones. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

"Oh, Godric," Hermione whimpered.

"I love you, Hermione, in ways I've never loved anyone before. Will you let me be your safe place to land? Will you do me the incredible honor of being my wife?" Draco searched her face, hoping to catch a glimpse of what she was feeling. He was finding it nearly impossible.

"Draco, I—" She took a deep breath. "I can't imagine my life without you in it. Yes. Yes, of course I'll marry you."

He huffed a sigh of relief and pulled her into a fierce hug. "It doesn't have to be right away, I swear. I just wanted to make sure everyone knows you are very, very taken."

Hermione chuckled. "Forever, remember?"

Draco pulled back. "So you _did_ know what giving me that ring meant?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Of course I did. I knew you'd recognize it for what it is: a very subtle hint." She smirked.

"Yes," he replied, rolling his eyes. " _Very_ subtle."

"So what's part two?" Hermione prompted.

Draco cleared his throat, feeling nervous once more. "It's—er—it's a house."

"What?" Her eyes widened comically.

"Well, I figured we'd eventually want a place of our own if you accepted my proposal. And if you didn't you still would need a place to live. It's highly protected and can only be accessed with this ring." He pointed at the ring he had yet to put on her finger. "Or by someone that the wards allow in." He gestured to himself.

"Oh," Hermione breathed. "Draco, I don't know what to say."

He shook his head. "In case you're worrying about the vast amount of money I spent in doing all of this for you, I should mention that it didn't cost me a galleon."

"Inheritance?" she asked knowingly.

Draco nodded. "Say yes," he whispered.

Hermione smirked again. "You can be so insecure sometimes."

After that, words were no longer necessary. While Draco and Hermione had indulged in frequent intimate moments together, this one was especially profound. Their relationship was now more than official; they were planning a future together, and everything was right with the world. Draco had never been happier.


	20. Epilogue: Ten Years Later

Epilogue: Ten Years Later

* * *

Two-year-old Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was currently running naked through the house. Hermione Malfoy was chasing after him, trying to get him to hold still long enough to put a diaper on him. Draco smirked as he watched them; it was especially difficult for Hermione to catch Scorp because she was eight months pregnant. He figured he really ought to step in and help her out.

So he did.

"Daddy's gonna get you!" Draco shouted, snatching Scorpius as he rounded the corner.

Scorpius squealed when Draco started tickling him.

Hermione huffed as she rounded the corner after her son. "You're going to send Mummy into early labor, Scorpius," she panted.

Scorpius glanced at her, then began squirming to be set back down.

"Hold your hippogriffs, son," Draco admonished. "We Malfoys don't go wandering around in the nude." He tossed a wink at Hermione. "Unless we're in the privacy of our bedrooms."

Hermione blushed. "He doesn't need to know that," she hissed.

"He's two." Draco smirked. "He won't remember a thing."

She glared teasingly at him, then pointed toward Scorpius's room. "Now you're in charge of dressing him all by yourself."

Draco's smirk widened. "Easy." He pulled out his wand, and with a twirl, Scorpius was fully clothed, diaper and all.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Show off."

"You know you love me," he replied.

They squished Scorpius as they moved closer for a kiss. Their son protested, quite loudly, at being held so close, but Draco and Hermione allowed their kiss to linger. When he deepened the kiss, Hermione pulled back.

"What are you trying to do? Make triplets?"

Draco laughed loudly and set Scorpius on his feet. The toddler took off running again; Draco figured the house-elf could handle it. "I don't think it works that way, love."

"No, really?" she snarked.

He grinned widely. "No harm in attempting to be the first people to accomplish it."

"You are incorrigible!" she said, lightly slapping his chest.

"I never claimed to be redeemable, remember?"

Hermione shook her head. "After all these years, I think you have realized by now that you've been rehabilitated."

"No, that's not it."

"No?"

Draco shook his head. "It wasn't me. It was you, Hermione. _You_ were my redemption."

And in that moment, he reflected back on how it had happened. Hermione had been his second chance at life, his opportunity to become a good man. He had taken hold of that unexpected gift with both hands, and Draco never planned on letting go.


End file.
